Wednesday morning, 4 a.m.

holy mother of god this is the worst hotel ever except for this one in New Mexico, I’ll tell you that story some other time.
We’re up, have had bad coffee and a shower, and are headed to the garage now to have the car looked at. Not that I don’t trust a zip tie, but you know. It is 356 miles.

We slept about an hour, give or take. Between the room getting to a thousand degrees and the kitchen cabinets being used (with fervor) beginning around 5:30, there was very little rest. But we’ve had a power nap and we’re on the way out, back to our families soon.

We look cute in our Super Big Mart clothes (holy SHIT we were dirty) and we might get tattoos while we wait for the car to be repaired (if we have to wait).

My soul for a Starbucks right now. I feel like such a fucking snob. But goddamn if I wouldn’t trade my husband’s left nut for some decent coffee.

My favorite quote from last night:
“Here’s some more zip ties in case you need to tie someone up”
(I would put that in my blog with a zippy comeback but I might get divorced. Oh whoops. Here I am putting it in my blog anyway!)

OMG and these guys. You know on King of the Hill? The guy who you can’t understand? That’s almost what they sounded like. Like a different language. The south, man. We have some cool dialects. Some of it’s almost like singing.