Today I drove aaaalll the way up here, and now I’m stuck on Indian time. This isn’t derogatory, or even a bad thing. It’s just slow and impulsive. Which is good. I’m a slow impulsive person, and I’m working on patience.
I have to wait for the guy who’s selling me the boat to fix it. He’s a good guy, and I trust that he’s selling me a good boat. I think I’ve been down south too long tho, because some part of me is like “ohmygod whatthefuck how many weeks has it been why can’t you just fucking fix it?!?” I think if I stay north that part of me will get over it and chill out soon.
Tomorrow (ha, today) I’m going to go over there and hopefully motivate subtly without offending. It seems like we probably need a part from town, a few hours away, and I guess maybe I’ll make the trip tomorrow. Or maybe he’ll just take me up the river in his other boat and leave me there. Hard to say.
I got a wonderful gift from a very incredibly generous person: a .45 colt automatic. It’s a little, um, extra fatal for me, but you never know when my father will get the impulse to track me down and try to kill me again. So it’s good to have protection. I hadn’t shot a handgun in a long time, since my crazy LA days, so I took it out to the shooting range when I got here and fired it into the dark a couple times. Turns out, it’s like riding a bike, comes right back. Has a lot less kick than I’d expected. I still can’t decide whether to pack it around stuck in my belt all the time, or hide it under the bed.