I'm really not a good sleeper much of the time. Last night was no exception. I was overtired from packing and a little sad after saying goodbye to our March neighbors, Carol, Joe and Mary. We'll won't see one another until February 2019, which seems very far away, though I know it's not.
I woke up -- if you can call it that -- at 4:00 a.m. and Bob was already rested and ready, looking about 30 years younger than he is. I, on the other hand, felt like the tired and touchy old hag with a sunburned nose. He made us sandwiches (turkey and cheese for him, peanut butter for me -- the turkey wasn't fresh enough for me to consider it safe). I took a shower and got rid of the last trash, noisily because I had to stuff the bag down the garbage chute. Some year, someone is going to make the connection and ID me as the crazy person who obsessively cleans till the very end of our stay in Florida.
We pulled out of the parking lot at 5:20 a.m. I275 to Tampa was fine, but as we drove north the fog settled over the freeway, and by the time we got to the I75 split, there was little visibility. No matter. By then, it was my turn to drive. Magnanimous, as always, Bob said he would drive if the fog got really bad. It didn't, and I did fine after I settled into the rhythm of the freeway. It's actually somewhat soothing.
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| Downtown Atlanta |
We stopped at the Tennessee Welcome Center and consulted the customer service rep about a place to stay. He recommended Chattanooga or Manchester ... and I voted for Chattanooga. Bob thought he had "an additional 70 miles" in him to make it through the congestion, but I didn't, and I was not going to drive in the mountains. Been there, done that -- not well.
So here we are for the night. The scotch is good and spring flowers are blooming. I will sleep tonight.
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