"Those are Gorgeous," says the older, smokey-voiced lady who was walking laps at the rest stop on I-5. She was referring to my pajama pants. From afar, they are white with pink and red hearts, with black splotches. They almost look like I stole my girlfriends pants. Up close, you realize that the black shapes are silhouettes of naked ladies. When people comment on them, I always wonder rather or not they actually notice that they are talking about my naked lady pjs.
Today, I woke up on the floor of my living room at 7:45am. I gave myself just enough time to take a poop before the roach killers showed up to poison my apartment. I drove the first carload of stuff from L.A. to Oaktown. I had no clue how scatterbrained the anxiety of having no job or income was going to make me. I locked my keys in my car the second I stepped out at McDonald's for breakfast. I was at the In-n-Out stop just north of the Grapevine. At least I was in a big city... oh wait no. AAA sent someone nonetheless.
Happy to be done with that, I texted Annie (the gf) 'OTRA' (on the road again) as I was merging back on the freeway. 15 minutes later I was looking on the side of the freeway and realized that I had actually merged onto the wrong freeway. Going well so far. I found my way back to the always wonderful I-5.
Just to add a little spice to an already ridiculous drive, I decided that a closed rest stop wouldn't discourage me. I pee more than a 90-yr-old lady (Annie's convinced I have something wrong with me). 'When you gotta go...'. I peed in a water bottle while I was driving. It went rather well. It be nice to have a ridiculously large penis in those cases, but mine worked well enough. Heck, it was so fun that I missed the next stop and did the same thing into another bottle. It turns out that I pee between 9 and 12 oz per each time I pee. That normal? Oh well, the things that I-5 teaches you about yourself.