In transit

Five hours in aircraft or airports. Another three in a car.
Fremont to Omaha to Dallas to Sacramento to Redding.
Oodles of time.
Trapped.
I bought a book to read on the plane, then I read it (damn).
The DVD I brought won't, for some reason, play on the laptop.
That leaves the entertainment options to the iPod.
And my over-active mind.
Shit, am I ever in trouble.
The end of vacations are like vacuums to me (like outer space vacuums). A place (where no one can hear you scream) and time to reflect. Choose a path, make a list. Enact change. Put it into play.
I'm already there.
Shit.
Maybe I can just reaffirm things. Get some priorities straight.
Work on this poem that seems to have gotten stuck (it's a word thing).
Try and not drive myself nuts.
See you all on the flip-side.

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