There were a few points on the drive home where I think the entire car, possibly including the driver, were asleep.  The ride from New York City to Mike’s house was only about two hours but it felt may three or four times longer than my one hour commute.  Driving by Newark seems to fatigue me in a way that only the PA Turnpike does otherwise.

We said our good byes to Kacey, Mike cleaned his bathroom, I had a Fastbreak Bar, a relationship was ended, and we headed off to Chicago.  My car had again started to take on water due to a disconnected AC drainage pipe that my father was too far away to help me fix and the hydrological phenomenon christened “Lake Wanda” by Mike began to return.

The drive out to Chicago was rainy and somewhere in central Pennsylvania I was lucky enough to find the only Lil’ Ol’ Gas Station that both took American Express and had corn nuts, the closest I get to methamphetamines when I drive.  The route we took was the one I thought we always took but it felt new.  We weren’t digressing to Pittsburgh, or Cross Lanes, or Cincinnati, or Allentown and I think I found renewed novelty in the simplicity of “west”.  This novelty wore off quickly and as we drove through miles of night more and more brain cells were dedicated to holding onto the thought of “get there”.  Oh the rain.

Somewhere in Ohio we passed by a truck that was on fire.  Not just a little on fire but a lot of on fire.  The vehicle politely immolated itself well onto the shoulder and traffic was not impeded.  Sparks were coming from the drive train which indicated to me that it was a very hot fire.  The metals of the frame were starting to burn.  Mike and I felt the heat of the conflagration as we passed .  We tried waking Suzie but she slept through our attempts.  I wonder if our calls were translated into dreams or python code.

Somewhere in Indiana we were pulled over for speeding.  I was going 79 in a 70 zone and I was admonished by the officer for lying when I said we were going 76.  He told me not to lie and that if I did, he’d give me a ticket.  I received no ticket so I suppose he lied.  Irony.

When we arrived in Peter and Audrey’s welkin heaven I melted into the couch.  I was so tired of sitting I had to sit down.  Conversation was short and quickly descending into theory of self and the mind-body problem indicating it was time to call it a night.  Tomorrow, we had a/another garden to see.