I’ve just walked into my apartment, sat down at the computer, and at least want to leave an “I made it back alive” entry before I go into my room and fall sound asleep. It’s hard to believe that, six-and-a-half hours ago, I was in Phoenix; three hours ago, when I landed in Nashville, I knew that I was back in a land of humidity from the moment I stepped off of the plane and onto the jetway.
“I’m so tired I can’t think” — Nirvana, “Pennyroyal Tea”, In Utero
Unfortunately, that humidity caused all sorts of lovely fog on the way home. It started around Columbia, but when I reached there, I felt fine. It got worse the closer I got to the state line—Columbia is Exit 46 on I-65, for non-locals’ reference—and so I chose to stay on I-65 than go down the backroads cut through Ardmore—the city that lives in both TN and AL—and cut 20 minutes off of my time. I figured that if the interstate was extremely foggy, it’d be even worse out in the country.
Little was I to know that it’d be really, really bad between the state line and the turnoff for I-565, the interstate spur that goes from I-65 to Huntsville. There was one point where I was going 50 mph, running my low beams, and was just groping for the road. At that point, the fatigue of putting up with the fog—plus the long plane ride that didn’t see me get too much sleep—was starting to take its toll. It was then that I broke out my secret stay-awake weapon: my Nirvana greatest hits CD.
I’m here and I’m fine, and the longer I sit here, the more awake I’m going to get. I’m going to try to go in at 8:00 a.m. tomorrow because I have a gut feeling that I’m going to need to be there. At least I slept until almost noon CDT today … make that yesterday.