We just checked into a hotel room, 55 miles from New Orleans. Tomorrow will be our last day riding. I thought I would be excited and feel accomplished when this day came, but that's not what I'm feeling now. When I first saw New Orleans on the highway mile marker sign, (73 miles) my stomach turned. Not in a good way. I feel like a dog in the car who just realized he's on the way to the vet. Every mile is a countdown now.
People keep saying they are proud of us, but I don't feel that is the appropriate response. That's like being proud of someone who flew to Hawaii on vacation. I have not had to work for 65 days. I have not had to interact with anyone but Beth. I have not had to endure a daily routine that has grown tedious and meaningless.
I think that my natural state is one of transition. During these times, I feel most at home, like I belong where I am, and like I'm living each moment.
I know that once I get to New Orleans I will feel differently. There are friends I haven't seen in so long.
Beth's on the phone with Peyton right now, and she just said she's on her way to get a queen size mattress so we can all sleep together in her apartment until we get jobs and find homes. Maybe I shouldn't be this nervous. Maybe I will feel differently once we reach the French Quarter. I just don't know what's next... but I will find out soon.