Back and forth.

I got back from VA around 8:00 last night in the middle of a magnificent display of lightning, which would have been more magnificent had I not been at 36,000 feet in a large, metal object.

I'm enjoying my time with Annika immensely. She knows I need to go back to VA again next week and for the next few weeks and doesn't seem quite so upset, which I'm very relieved about. Really, the guilt is something awful.

I'm still working my short-term project and hoping against hope for something more long term to work out. It's difficult to accept that some things really aren't in my control, but I have to.

I just heard Eurythmics on the radio this week, which inspired me to listen to them again, and to go out and buy some Annie Lennox. Though I was a big Eurythmics fan years ago, I had never really liked the song "Sweet Dreams," but I've grown to like it more and more over time. There's something to be said for its simplicity, and it seemed to resonate with me this week.

Wednesday.

It's Wednesday night. I think I'm going to make it until the end of the week.

The project I'm working on is short term, and I fear it will only go through mid-July at the latest. I'm seriously worried. And angry. And tired. I don't want to start again job-wise at 39 in Wichita. I should start practicing, "Would you like fries with that?"

How'd that sound?

Oooops.

I forgot my medication at home. Let's hope I can make it until Friday.

Travel.

Last time I traveled, it was during a miserable, cold December. It's not exactly warm right now, but it's not freezing, either. The grey skies seem to suit my current mood. I was dreading the trip--Annika has suddenly taken to telling me that she doesn't want me to go away. I feel really guilty.

At least my trip yesterday wasn't too bad. I saw the most beautiful full moon from the plane and I wondered if anyone could be appreciating it as much as I was at that moment.

I'm in Virginia. I am reminded of the kindness and gentility that was so familiar during my college years. I appreciate the friendliness of the convenience store employees and patrons who make absolutely certain I know which way to go to find my hotel. I have a giggle at seeing no fewer than three men in the airport in madras plaid golf shorts.

I'm working hard this week and I have little time to think about anything beyond those details, but somehow it makes me feel a little less overwhelmed to remember my drive to the hotel--Peter Frampton's "Baby I Love Your Way" on the radio and the full moon lighting the road.

Down boy.

After a day of driving Annika around and having her insist on playing the Kidz Bop cd she got in her Happy Meal the other night, Karen O and the gang are just what I needed to feel better. Total, total hotness. Who needs a bassist when you have guitarist Nick Zinner?