I have no idea what to write tonight. And it’s late. I need to post soon. Because it’s what I do.
Yesterday was packing everything in the truck and driving 12 hours.
I packed my meals up the night before. I never had to worry about food. I never had to think about what to eat. I didn’t have to make any major decisions while we were on the road. I didn’t have to bow to the whims of the road. Or my travel companion. I ate when it was time to eat. Because I was prepared.
Having my food taken care of made all of the cramped sitting bearable. It made me peaceful. I don’t dislike long drives. But they come with discomfort.
I can live with discomfort. I can be gracious in the face of it.
That is not my default setting. I have a history of being difficult in the face of difficulty.
Getting my eating under control made me more conscious of my behavior. It made me want to be gracious and easy going. Because it was so hard to live with myself if I was both difficult and sober.
It’s much easier to be obnoxious when you’re high.
But now the long travel is done. Thank God. Eventually we may even unpack the truck. Eventually. But today is not that day. And I’m feeling easygoing about that too.