Monday. The day before our return to Hell. I'd like to say that I had enjoyed our week off, but for the most part Mara and I have sat in front of our computers and played Star Wars: Galaxies. I feel incredible guilt over that. There were so many things that I wanted to do while we were home. I had planned to finish painting the bathroom. I had wanted to redesign The Watch web site, as well as my personal site. I wanted to put up the rest of those family pictures that I scanned once-upon-a-time. I wanted to take my basses to Andy in Sam Ash to get them set up, and Dawg's bass to get the new pickups wired. I also wanted to take our laptop computer to Charlotte to have it repaired. I wanted to go talk to CCB about renewing the loan on the house.

And what have I done? I've played Star Wars: Galaxies.

So. Besides the guilt of not doing any of this, we're now facing imminent departure and another 6 weeks of living in the twilight, somewhere between waking and dreaming, and somewhere between yesterday and tomorrow. That sounds melodramatic, but that's about what our lives are like on the road. We live but we don't exist. We're ghosts; subroutines in some larger program that no one will ever know about.

Some day that will change. Just not today.