First I was going to leave on a Sunday. Then the commercial project I had taken at the last minute suddenly picked up speed, and going hard into the weekend. The train had no conductor and none of the passengers - clients, agency, and production - were screaming. Instead they were holding up their hands saying "Wheee!" I made my way to the back of the train and made some phone calls to loved ones.
I decide Wednesday is better to leave and be absent from SF for a whole month, driving across the country one way, touching the Atlantic Ocean and then driving back another way. But for reasons that escape even me, I don't really know where I'm going. Over the last few weeks, whenever I thought about making this trip, the lights would go out whenever I said, "I really should figure out how I'm going to do this."
Generally, the trip will be ovular in shape. But that's about it for planning. Like a bead of mercury. I'll just watch how it slips across the map.
