So, I wasn't thirty miles from the North Carolina border yesterday when I got pulled over for going 78 in a 65. I actually thought this was a relatively safe speed to be traversing, but apparently not. I'm sure my Al Qaeda-esque beard didn't help my cause, though I was friendly to the fellow, and he was friendly to me. It's weird, any time in my life when I've been the target of flashing lights, however innocent, I've experienced that heart-pounding feeling. Yesterday, it was like I was pulling over to give someone directions. Nothing, nada, just calm acceptance. Now I have to pay 121 ducats (5 dollars for every mile over the limit, plus a 56-dollar processing fee) to the Greensville Emporia General District Court. Meanwhile, I'm still thousands of dollars in debt from the mighty COCAINE ANGEL. Come on, distributors, give a broke brother a piece of the pie!
My sister's new house is quite lovely. I'm about to hit the paint store (where I'M picking out the color for her main room--wish me luck), at which point I begin my attack. It honestly shouldn't be too rough going, though it's hunches like these that get me in trouble.
Had one of those heavy dreams last night that has carried into my conscious life. I don't very much like those. But dreams are just dreams, right? I'm still trying to figure out the answer to that one.
Let's also hope that the lower back pain lurking on the horizon doesn't stampede into the foreground. That's just what I need at this stellar phase of my existence...