Well. Hello my little diaryland box. Hello Florida, my little frustrated state. Hello hello hello! my loverly loverly pup, old Bashi Basho, splayed out on my sleeping pallet in this hot old room. It's been a long day friends. Long and long. The kind of long that involves many airplanes (well...three) and many delays and some running to make connections and then, when all the airplanes are done, a three hour drive home, when it should only take one. Accident on the highway. I about crawled right out of my own skin. I about had a good old-fashioned two-year-old TEMPER TANTRUM. Me poor mum, who's had a long day herself, and stuck with me, impossible to please me because I needed Basho and I couldn't get to him and I was tearing at my hair I was so done with this day, me poor mum was cheerful throughout. And her no longer able to take pain medication (surgery business) and her not home since 6:30 am because of her 12 hour statistics class on Saturdays. Poor mum. She's a trooper fo sho.

But back to me and my pain. No food. No cigarettes. Only caffeine and airports and cars. Oy oy oy. And also I have a recently acquired honest-to-god Fear of Flying. I never had that before. I don't like planes, haven't for many years, but I was never frightened before. Now I am it seems.

Who cares, though. Because my dad gave me a beer (he had em stashed away from Dan. My family. Fucked up.) and I ran far away from everyone, outside to keep company with the full moon and the mist and the heat and the thick air (oh how I've missed this thick air) and the spanish moss and my dog.

And that's really it for now. I am content because Basho is with me. I am all filled up again. And tired. More and better entry tomorrow.