That is what today has been, pretty much. Very productive, but not interesting at all to write about. I can't wait to get on the road. In the very large and difficult to drive van. With the very cramped, two-seat cab. With two cats. On drugs. For 10 hours a day. For. Six. Days.
What doesn't strong me, makes me killer.
Song of the moment.
The Inn of Infinite Sadness, or alternatively, Smudge and Hobbes' Traumatising Transcendental Transatlantic Trip. Being the adventures of two very large, unwillingly peripatetic, half-Bengal cats and their owner (of rather similar description) as they prepare to leave the North American continent in search of a new life in their (the cats, not the owner) ancestral homeland of Aneda. Sigh, what I won't do for a decent cup of tea.
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