November 07, 2004

shitty sunday

I didn't feel like writing today. I woke up in a foul mood and I never shook it off. After I took a shower this morning, I decided to shave my beard, so I did. I kept the moustache. I'm gonna get a haircut tomorrow, too, and try to look somewhat civilized again. My last haircut was 15 months ago. I resemble a combination of Fido's Ass and an Old Hippie.

Today was a beautiful fall day, so I decided to take a Sunday drive. Effingham County is perfect for that sort of thing, because county roads criss-cross the land and you can get to the middle of nowhere fast. There's really not a whole lot to see, just pine barrens, mobile homes, farms, churches and miles of curving road, but I did some exploring and enjoyed the ride.

I don't know how I ended up there, but I found myself on Highway 30, just a few miles away from my old mini-farm. I drove by to look at it. Hey! They've paved the road! The old casa looks good, too. Damn, but I loved that place. That's where I intended to live the rest of my life, once upon a time. Oh, well.

Hell, I thought ... since I'm HERE, I'm only a few miles away from...

I did something that could have gotten me in trouble. I drove by Jennifer's house. I was hoping to see Quinton playing outside. I haven't seen my boy since Father's Day, and that visit lasted all of two minutes. I wanted to SEE him. I'm his DADDY! I miss him a lot.

But he wasn't outside and I didn't stop. I drove around a while longer, aimlessly, just driving to be driving, and then I went back to the Crackerbox. I fried the pound of shrimp I bought yesterday and ate a sumptious meal while watching NFL football. I don't remember who was playing because I didn't care about the game. I was thinking about Quinton.

Yeah. It was a shitty Sunday.