It's early Sunday morning (12.11 am to be precise), and I can't sleep because it's hot and I'm rather nervous for the 5-7 day drive that begins tomorrow. I know, I know. You probably can't sleep either because you're a) in Rwanda and the cat is chasing the Geico gecko around your bedroom, b) in WDC, and it's a hundred degrees and humid (but you have AC, so I don't want to hear it), or c) in New Orleans, anxiously awaiting my arrival (who am I kidding - there is only one person in NOLA waiting for me, and she BETTER be excited because I'm bringing the vacuum).
Oh right, did I mention that I'm moving? Again? For the second time in five months? In February I traded in rowdy Redskins fans (no, I never did hail to the Redskins), epic snowstorms, and the Nation's Capital for the San Juan Islands, drizzly days (and days, and days), and Seahawk's of Seattle. But of course, I couldn't stop there. No, I just had to move one more time (sorry Seattle, it's not you, it's me. Really.). On Monday, I will trade cities again (just like Cliff and LeBron!) and hop in my brand-new-not-yet-named Jetta and hit the road headed for the music, the beignets, and H (my sister), in New Orleans.
The Big Move (version 2.0) is proving to be slightly easier this time around - no Snowpocalyse complicating goodbye gatherings and no packing tape or bubble wrap - plus my little black pup isn't tripping me up at every turn (she's enjoying my mum & dad's big back yard, and will be staying in Seattle for the next few months).
This little 2700+ mile jaunt between the Emerald City and the Big (Too) Easy will undoubetdly provide me with some hilarious tales (and I hope, photos), though this time around I'm laying down the road tripping law: no hitchikers, no trail mix, and (unfortunately?) no Cracker Barrel.
Armed with the best Justin Bieber, Outkast, and Bye Bye Gooser music mixes, I'm off! Let's hope I don't get lost.