Limbo Is My Natural State Of Being

Yesterday I was in Flagstaff longer than I usually am. Mainly because I wanted to be able to park at my house and that meant waiting for the repavement stuff to dry. If ever you wondered where your recovery dollars are going, allow me to answer: you're repaving all the roads at Grand Canyon National Park! There are chips and loose gravel all over the place here, wreaking havoc on my poor car and all the confused tourists who can't figure out where the lanes should be.

Last week, there was even a car wreck on a main road where a man died. Could gravel be the culprit? I'm sure it played a part, it's kind of like driving on ice because loose rock pulls at your wheels. God help you if you go over 30 and don't have 4WD.

In brighter news, my back is nearly healed! I've been having issues with this whole "there's no skin on my entire back" thing, but thanks to two bottles of neosporin, it seems to be getting a little better. It still feels tight, but there's no pain like there was last week. Let this be a brutal life lesson: sunscreen is your best friend! Even if you don't think you need it, the excess grossness of it is still far better than laying on your stomach praying like hell your skin peels off soon.

I think I'm still getting some residual side effects of the sun poisoning: for one, I can't sleep at night anymore. I'm tired all morning but at night, it doesn't matter if my eyes are so heavy they refuse to open--I just can't seem to drift off. The other is this migraine that won't go away. I'll be ok for a few days and then BAM, out of nowhere, I get this massive nausea-inducing, room-spinning, world-hating headache that resists 800 mg of ibuprofin.

This week just kind of sucks in general, so why not a skull-busting brain bruiser on top of it?

I was walking out of the Safeway in Flag--my last stop before heading back to the canyon--and the sun was already on its way down on the horizon. A breeze kicked up (it is noticeably cooler here), and it officially smelled like autumn. For a minute I let myself pretend that I was walking out of the walmart in State College. So used to this smell being associated with new classes, friends and tailgates, I could easily pretend I was holding bags of chips and dip for this weekend's opening football game. I'd get in my car, drive home, call up my friends and we'd hit the bars. The bars are always hoppin syllabus week.

Of course, then I got into my car, took one look up at the mountains casting a shadow down on Flagstaff and realized that there'd be no bars tonight. No friends. No tailgating out on my deck (like there has been the past three years). No, tonight I'd go home, cook some dinner, read a little bit and hope I actually got some sleep. Seriously, I could carry the contents of my purse under my eyes at this point.