I think I gots ‘Cabin Fever.’
“This mornin,’ I shot six holes in my freezer; I think I got cabin fever. Somebody sound the alarm!”
Visualize me trying to explain all the nuance of this to Commerce’s Finest….
“Well, you see, Officer… there was this woman… And ReHab, and… That Fridge… was Antifa…”
“Assume the position Sir.”
This is my problem.
I need a road trip…
Somewhere other than the Beer Store,
I need to get out of this self-imposed prison.
It is driving me insane. (And trust me on this: I am capable of driving myself)
But this is a different animal.
Not that I need human interaction.
Just some fresh air.
That is all.
Too much reminisce.
Losing my fucking mind!
I need a ‘Walk-About.’
Road – Trip.
Perhaps to Honey Grove.
Anywhere but here!
Several miles from here.
Just to breathe.
I need to ‘get over myself.’
“Lance! Take a break Son! Get outta town for a spell! Even if just for an afternoon!”
“I will. Soon as I make bail.”