What's that? I'm packing, moving, and getting on the bike indefinitely starting in a few days? I think I forgot. I didn't have time to worry about it, really. I'm walking 8-12 miles a night, working 12 hour shifts, failing to eat enough to keep from losing a whole pants size, trying to get a nap in here and there and OH SHIT the bike needs a brake job and the new luggage racks don't fit and the new lights are wired wrong and the heated hand grips are still in the living room and her back tire is shot and won't pass inspection and, look out the window, it's fucking snowing for the third time this week. I woke up 30 hours ago but I don't have time for sleep now so I'm sucking down my 6th cup of coffee today, which might explain why on the rare occasion I get to lie down in a bed I spend half that time awake staring at the ceiling and talking to myself.
|Brake job and mud!|
It's almost over. I've got three more days of this, for a grand total of six weeks. We fit all our stuff into storage yesterday, which was a miracle; we have a shared 5x10 unit and it's stacked all the way to the ceiling. The luggage still isn't mounted to the bike because the exhaust is in the way of the right rack. The top box is on the bike, the side bags are in the back of the rental car, and the tank bag is in the mail, scheduled for delivery today. The brake job is done, the oil change is done, and the tire and inspection sticker are waiting at Full Throttle for Bumblebee to roll in.
There were holidays in there somewhere...I spent Christmas barely awake with my family, and New Year's weekend at the warehouse. A friend at work squinted at me when I told him I'd been awake for 35 hours and said, "How the hell do you do that? I'd be doing so much cocaine to get through that."
"COFFEE," I answered, twitching. Staying awake for multiple days is, as my friend Nate reminded me, "A good way to get in touch with your inner psycho." The last two weeks have involved a lot of screaming in the car, which is better than screaming at coworkers, or so I've been told.
On Saturday it ends. I'll be done with both jobs just in time to attend Lammy's holiday party, and on Sunday we'll head for my mom's place to hang out for a few days. From there we wait for passable weather and then bolt for the south. Coming down from this insanity to no schedule at all is probably going to be a nasty shock, but the beach weather in Florida is calling.