They'll still be there tomorrow.

Oklahoma:

Eric drinks his own pee.

The workforce welcomed me back (finally) on Tuesday for yet another job I can't blog about. I think that I'll just have to accept the fact that I'll never be allowed to blog about another job ever again. But, so far, so good. It keeps me busy, if not a little mind-numb, but the days go by quick. It's in Midwest City, a whole 19 miles from where I live in OKC. Right now, that doesn't bother me, but it might start to get on my nerves in a while. It's nice to have a routine again.

By far, the worst part is getting up early. The Sunday before I started, Chelsey and I decided that buying a 20 pack of Miller Lite at 1:30am and killing it by sunrise was a great idea. An even better idea was going to the diner down the street, still drunk, and getting biscuits and non-chocolate gravy at 9am. Well, it was totally awesome, but as if my sleep schedule wasn't bad enough, that absolutely ruined it.

I can tell you that there was a chocolate party in the building I work on Friday. No reason, just a bunch of people decided to bring in chocolate. Dudes in Oklahoma like to eat. Someone brought in chocolate gravy, which completely blew my mind. I had no idea such a thing existed. Turns out, it's super popular in the south; people serve it over biscuits and dip bacon in it. WHAT. I guess it's sort of like when I try to explain xeroscaping or swamp coolers to people here. It just doesn't make sense. Now, the most important question: how was it? Well, I didn't dip any bacon in it, but it was pretty much like eating a chocolate muffin. With butter. I guess if people can deep fry twinkies, they can make chocolate gravy.

You better call Edco.

My truck hit 200,000 miles on the way back from Albuquerque. Unfortunately, I was too distracted by construction to remember to take a picture.

In the almost 9 years I’ve had her, Joan Rivers has seen 2 oceans, 2 countries, 17 states, 2 provinces, 3 of the Great Lakes, the mighty Mississippi 4 times, countless oil changes, one entirely new front end, 2 additional new bumpers, 3 radiators, 4 batteries, 4 brake jobs, 5 new sets of tires helped move too many people to name. I normally get about 300 miles per a tank of gas, so dividing that by 200,000, then multiplying an average price of $27 for a tank of gas (and that's probably low-balling it), it means I've spent $18,000 on gas for her. Dear Lord.






Here's to my ultimate highway companion. And to her amazing ability to keep me safe, warm and out of trouble.

The flood is here.

Everything will change.

Kyle and I are taking a hiatus. It’s no one’s fault, no one’s mad, and I know deep down, it’s the right decision for both of us. I’m trying to be as rational as possible, but all in all, it’s absolutely heartbreaking. That’s the hard thing about your heart; it’s pathetic at being logical. It's the sort of thing I'm keeping close, and not on a blog.

I spent last week in Albuquerque, remembering all the things I missed; summer nights with Ashley and Joel, the smell after a thunderstorm, Jennifer’s garden, Daniel’s giant bear hugs, potatoes from Olympia, Kate nachos, Maria’s tolerance for drunk people (Lord Calvert, you and me are officially over.), the mountains, Kyle Anaya’s off-color wisdom, the amount of discretion over marijuana usage (NONE), the accent and about a million more things. I sobbed and sobbed when I left. Felt like I left behind a lot more this time.

And back in Oklahoma, I got offered another job I can’t blog about. But it’s been a mess trying to get everything in order for it. I had to get my own background check. Also, the pay schedule is screwy, so I’ll still be dirt-poor for a while. I have to remember this is a job, not a career; a paycheck, not my life.

In my hotel room, I'm wondering if you read that story too. And if we both might be having the same imaginary conversation.