School of the Road Dropout

It was Thursday, December 21, 2006.  I’m in Greensburg, IN at about 10-10:30 at an Iron Skillet Restaurant/truckstop.  The weather has been cloudy, raining, foggy.  Temp is in the 30’s – 40’s range.  I haven’t driven yet.   I feel bored and lost and looking forward to the motel in Oregon next week.  I miss Shawna and her innocent optimism.  We’re on the slow train to Ohio and then…California!   We’ll have to take the Southern roads due to blizzards in the Rockies, Northern New Mexico, and Texas.  Good.  I can’t jump to conclusions yet, but so far my mind has been numbed by the road already.  – – -The future looks grim.  On the plus side, I’ve only smoked about 6-8 cigarettes since yesterday night.  Vern doesn’t smoke.
Most of my day has been spent staring out the windshield at a cloudy, gray world.  I tried to think about how I used to gaze out of car windows as a child, but couldn’t find the thought.  I used to pick a fixed point in the window and try to keep up with the speeding scenery by focusing either on chopping it down or jumping over everything I saw.  Trees, houses, barns, . . .anything and everything, all at 65 miles per hour horizontally.
I was lost and bored then, but I didn’t know any different. Everything was so new and strange then, and although strange it remains, I’ve been around longer and have found a place to put the pieces. I’ve been forced to make sense out of the world in order to preserve or maintain my sanity. THIS is a new world. A part of me has been left behind. TAK.
Last night was insanely long and restless. I slept a few times and had weird dreams. Claustrophobia is something I have to fight up here in the top bunk with the bad smells and the reefer unit’s on/off cycle, the snoring and the fact that if I have to pee or smoke, I have to jump down and go outside. It’ll be better on my own.

Looking at Ohio through insomniac’s eyes is very surreal. Nine in the morning could easily be a mask for six at night. It was winter and I knew this, but when traveling across different state lines, the temperature can change every hour. 10 deg. yesterday is now 40 deg and still no real sleep. We made two stops: one at Cloverleaf Cold-storage in Fairfield, OH and the other to pick up Pilsbury Dough in Wellston, OH. We were to bring that truck-load of shit all the way to Ontario, CA. I already had mapped out all of our fuel stops. . .A Pilot station in Hayti, MO. Petro in West Memphis, AR. TA Travel in Oklahoma City. Pilot in Amarillo. Love’s in Albuquerque. On and on and on. . .

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