treads

I've been restless lately. I'm itchy and my skin doesn't feel like it fits right. My head feels loose and wobbly, disjointed, like if you touched it I'd just sit there and nod like a dashboard dog. Words come up to the top of my brain like fish in a pond and then disappear just as quickly. It's maddening.

Nothing feels right. Running, eating, sleeping, drinking, talking, crying - none of it makes the itchy twitchy feeling go away.

I think I need a road trip.

Gas up the car, check the tires, throw a bag in the back and just go.

I think that's exactly what I need, because I can feel my shoulders relax just thinking about it. Open road - CDs in the passenger seat and sun on my left arm and a styrofoam cup of diet coke getting watery in the console and a map half folded on my dashboard, obscure highways and ranch roads highlighted in lime green.

I need some color. I need wildflowers and barns and mockingbirds. I need to pass by pecan stands and folks selling fudge and church sales. Deer Jerky 2 Miles. Buc-Ee's Fabulous Restrooms. I need to drive and listen to the radio stations fade into one another and sing loud with nobody else listening and sometimes just drive in silence. I need to roll. I need to move.

Spring fever. Jimmy brain.

I'll come back, I promise. I have no desire to stay gone. I just want to get in my car and drive. Drive and sing and think and look around. Stop and take pictures when I want to, stop and buy a stupid keychain when I want.

Or, y'know - not.

Maybe Sunday.