October 14th, 2009
Tomorrow — late tonight, really — I return to bike & brew. I’ve been away for the entire western portion to date — left the gals in la crosse & bussed it up to minneapolis a day early (or rather, less-late), where I visited briefly w/ friends before flying (via, naturally, georgia) back to Kalamazoo. Where I lounged, happily but oh-so-very-lengthfully, for near two weeks. It’s good to be back. Or rather, it’s good to be on a train, approaching an airport, which’ll get me back in not all that many more hours. Though when I take the time to add, I see there’re more than twelve to go — the arrival is not as immediate as I imagine or pretend. Still, it’s good to be on a train. I like trains. And it’s been nearly two months.
I’m inclined to complain, but lengthy transport isn’t such a bad thing, on balance. Both ends of my vacation-from-vacation have been day long affairs, but they’ve been smooth & uneventful (I say, less than an hour into the second), and they provide a sort of transition between modes of living.
I spent most of my time in kalamazoo sick. My second evening in town, I overindulged (friends were hosting a stranger’s bachelor’s party — it was hard not to overindulge) and a day later, I was rather ill. This faded, but my health oscillated throughout the full trip, and then, two days before leaving, I decided it was a good idea to get around four hours of sleep before driving down to indiana to pick my father up from the train station, rebooting the hibernating sick. But I’m not worried, or not overly — it seems to be receding, and structurally, suddenly cleared health makes sense. Lengthy transport bookends miserable sickness, which bookends my stay in kalamazoo. Life generally conforms to some sort of geometrically satisfying pattern, yeah?
… And a few hours after writing those last paragraphs, I’m a little bit less optimistic — I don’t feel bad, exactly, but after deep introspection, I realized have absolutely no desire to sit in the airport ‘hockeytown cafe’ and drink labatt’s. I don’t even have any desire to sit in said cafe and drink a bloody mary, and I know (from walking past several times, considering the possibility) that they serve their bloody marys in the correct, midwestern style — in a pint glass, w/ copious greenery. If I don’t have the energy for a 5:30 drink, that means one of two things — I either got up later than noon, or my sickness has more legs than it feels like. And I got up at 9am, after sleeping 10 hours and hitting snooze for one hour more. But even with diminished optimism, there’s still positivity-a-plenty. I still have two sudafed tablets, the better to deal w/ a spongy head and seesawing air pressure. And nothing cures everyday aches like a little time in the saddle. Michigan: g’bye. SLC: hello.
I would hug, but well, you know,