I spent a horrible night. Anxieties and nightmares probably brought on by the thought of leaving the house and traveling. In some ways, I'm feeling forced to do this, coerced by my own words of bravado. Maybe I want to go. Maybe I don't. There are conditions. I am comfortable in my house, my life. But I want to go, too. Maybe just not yet. Or maybe I do. It is not so far. I could drive there and back between sunrise and sunset easily and have breakfast and lunch besides. Sure. Maybe today. Maybe soon. Just pack a bag. Two days. Three days. You don't need much. Where would I stay? I've checked hotel prices. Everything is expensive unless I stay far, far away from everything, Even an airport hotel is expensive. Cheap is out near the Monkey Jungle. The place in this photo, maybe. It is well-located and not all that expensive. Almost cheap. What's the deal with that? I read reviews. It is just a cheap motel with a big glass add on. But it is on the waterway and not far from things. Maybe. I need more time. What if I make a mistake? When did I become like this? I prefer a little luxury now, but I cannot sustain that if I want to travel. The money river is hardly flowing and I've drained the account on house and car repairs and bad non-investments. Still, a person needs to live, but my house is fine and I live in paradise of sorts.
I must make up my mind now. If I don't go, you'll judge me, but you don't know everything. You might think you do, but there is much that I keep hidden. But surely I should go. I might feel better. And it is not that far away. I'll go. I'll wait. I don't know. I don't know. You go. I don't care. Just don't judge me.