Miami, FL en route to Durham, NC / Carrie St. George Comer

This’ll be brief. I’m running out the door to catch my plane to Durham, and I’ve got a mantra in my head: “You are not a get-it-done person. You are not one who gets things done . . .” I had to go to the bank to get my ATM card back after the machine swallowed it last week. Then I had to go get a bottle of Anejo for Zapruder and Beckman, though it’ll probably be confiscated soon. And I needed to spend time with Evelyn before leaving for so long, so we went to the park with her grandparents who came down to help Ben while I’m gone. Then I had to shower—the tedium. Then I had to pack. What to wear??? I’m 35, so looking hot is now out. I have to look cool and sort of smart, without appearing to have tried and all that. So I cleared a shelf into my bag. I don’t know what’s in there but hopefully I won’t freeze to death up in the hills. Hopefully there’s a toothbrush.

I’m gonna look like shit.

I still don’t know where to find the bus, and Roderick says he doesn’t know either. So I guess I’ll walk around till I bump into him. No, I’ll call him. I’m gonna call you Roderick. And then we’ll find the reading. And then we better be getting a drink somewhere or I’m going home!

Originally Published: October 6th, 2006