Interstate

Welp, here I am, hitting the road to Omaha.  Going home for a week or so and golly, I thought to blog on my way out the door.  ?!  I'm taking with me the Journals of Sylvia Plath, so maybe I'll squeeze something out while I'm at home.  She was young; I'm young.  Correlation.  I hate to leave Dumas, especially knowing that there's no one there save my family to see.  I sure do want to see them, but my trip will most likely be cut short, seeing as this evening when I arrive will be the start of a slow nail driving into my brain until around Wednesday when I'll be completely insane.  

Maybe there's more of a correlation between Ms. Plath and me than I thought...