(no subject)

I settle in behind the big ol' wheel of my 24 foot truck and start flipping through the radio stations. "Oh no, not the Uhaul country music thing again." Alan looks pained. Yup, I transform into a lone wolf of the interstate under the influence of that big round steerin' wheel. I don't know much of anything about country music, just that when I find a station where they're singing about a voice mail message they got from their ex, I've found my kind of country. That voice messaging has got be handy when you're spending all your time out riding the range and stuff. I flash my headlights at the truckers when they've got enough room to pull in front of me (this happens a lot as I am the slowest driver in at least 6 western states) and am absurdly gratified when they flash their running lights at me in return. The move goes well. Most of my fish survive, my in-laws are still speaking to me, the truck is returned undamaged. I am very tired, but very pleased. I really do like it here. It feels very nice that there's no departure date associated with my stay. *sigh*