It's been a long time since I was alone in the house with Jack Johnson and to be truthful there's probably just this one song in the playlist and I should probably put a little more Jack on my phone but it only takes one little bit to bring it all back. Jack's the only artist I can think of off hand who can sing about something truly awful and make it sound cheerful. Not that everything he's got to say is awful; it's not. Some of it's really quite nice, actually. I'm just saying I could sing with this guy all day long, happily. At the top of my lungs or real quite like I'm in church sort of and it's something oh so reverent and I suppose it is.
So I'm just waiting for NM to get here and I needed to sit down. I woke up at 2:30 with a headache. Woke up again at 4:30 and sucked down two more ibuprofen (don't say it, it was that bad and at 4:30 it was too late to make the imitrix decision and not have a problem with the 8 AM alarm). The third time it was 5:25 and I just gave up. Grabbed my phone out of the docking station, turned on the light and plugged into Facebook. I wanted to know how my friend the baby caller (should NOT call him that because he's not, he's just coming up, that's all) did at the Spanish Ballroom and HE was still awake on the sort of high I'm on after a dance (except now I've got somebody to come down off that high with) but his was an uber high because he's that sort of guy and he'd knocked himself out of the park. I sure do hope they enjoyed him as much as he enjoyed them and himself. So I forgot about my head for awhile and how sick it was making my stomach and eventually got out of bed and found coffee. That helped.
I was heading toward the shower when SM pinged me. That was good because I haven't had a seriously long chat with SM in way too long except then the shower didn't happen because I had to take Elizabeth to the bank at 9 because she had to leave at 10ish with my dad and wife to head up to Vermont because they've just come back from Russia (I know, I'm just going on, right?) but you get the picture, house full of people, normal, non-vegan people who don't deserve the food abuse (and they were very good about it last night) and Cletus is out cold and off to the bank we went.
She only makes deposits, this one. We can't find the passbook so I don't remember my custodial name so I've got my old passport just in case. Yes, I am still Mrs. Nomans. FML. Don't have time to change that yet, back to the house with Elizabeth's shopping cash and the forbidden eggs and remember I've been up since 5:25 and I still think I might want to be just a little bit sick and a dark room sounds just about right but I'm still going...
Finally everyone is situated and I can eat something acceptable and also Cletus has bolted leaving her share of the work behind and that's fine too because I don't have it in me to deal with her and I get into the shower and as soon as I get out the phone pings and I'm on the phone, wet, dripping, wrapped in a towel for an hour and all I want to do now is sleep but there's more to do and, just and...
I finished in the kitchen. Laundry is in the washer and the drier. The tent, crash pad and sleeping bag are in the foyer. I have a vague idea about my hiking boots. Cletus got her car registered in time yesterday. All of my clean clothes are folded and put away. I am going to leave work on Monday and drive six or seven hours or eight or nine depending on traffic to just before the Bay Bridge on the Delmarva peninsula and on Tuesday morning I am going to traffic court at 11 AM to face the charge of reckless driving (shit, I still have to locate that summons) and then I'm going to drive home and go back to work on Wednesday morning after seven or eight or nine or ten hours depending on traffic and on Thursday morning 10 days of clothing for very coldish to warm and camping to get there will get tossed in my car and I'll leave work and drive North. And I'll be home on the 27th after work so I'd better remember work clothes for the 27th then, right? And I'll be missing Elizabeth's first day of school ever.
Well that just sucks. I'll call. Maybe Facetime will work or something.
Will her father get her school supplies? Will she have something to wear that will make her happy and not self conscious? My father, on the way out the door asked me what were the alternative plans for getting Elizabeth home if things fell through with her father while I was away and I just looked at him and said, I will be at Cape Breton, out of the country, I cannot help you. Work it out with her father. But what if things fall through with her father? Geeze Dad, what if they fall through with me?
It's ok, I get it. I am who I am. And I am leaving.
All this stuff.
And I need to finish the close.
And my boss and I, we're sponsoring a student who needs school supplies, a coat, a backpack and three school uniforms, some underwear and socks and we have to get this done on Monday and nobody else is interested so it's just us. We're going to get this all handled at lunch? Why yes, yes we are.
Now I'm listening to (My Own, Your Own, Somebody's Own) Personal Jesus. YES!
And I'm alone in the house.
And you know what? This is all OK. It really is. Northern Man is on his way South. Southern Man is already North. I'm dancing in Hartford tonight with both of them and then on Friday or Saturday depending on whether or not Northern Man falls over from the weight of his workload (it looks like a piano over his head at the moment and I know it CAN'T possibly be that bad, but still) we head out for the end of the world in search of odd and amazing fiddle music. Or the root of it all. Or the North American root of it all more accurately.
Here. We are going here:
And never mind how the hell all this happened. It just did. Oh wait. I resolved that by the end of the post yesterday with that bit from The Tempest, didn't I? OK, we're all good then.