I'm mere days away from my camping trip. The weather is currently messing with me. I checked the forecast yesterday and the weekend was looking perfect for a camping trip to the Cascade mountain range, but now it looks like dark clouds are closing in from both sides, and squeezing the sun out. One never knows until the day arrives though. Most likely, the days will start off cold and grey and then eventually the sun will burn through and warm things up for a bit. I'm hoping for some open space, so I don't want to be trapped in my tent all weekend.
I'll be exchanging the sounds of sirens, dogs barking and drunken revelers at the bus stop for babbling brooks, the wind soughing through the trees and the smell of the campfire. It's after the peak camping season, so I'm hoping that the campers will be pretty sparse this weekend. I have noticed online that there are about five sites that have already been reserved for the weekend. All the prime sites by the river. Maybe I can scope out the best site and reserve it next time. I have a feeling that I don't want to be adjacent to other campers; not if I can help it anyway.
I'm always aching for a getaway, but the past month has been tough for me. Many troubled emotions just beneath the surface, trying to claw their way out. I've always been adept at hiding my emotions, pushing them back into the corners of my mind, but that's not healthy. The stress and anxiety build up and the next thing you know, I'm having a stroke, or worse yet, converting to Republicanism. This weekend will serve as a respite from the madness of this society. For at least a couple of consecutive days, I would like to be able to leave the bill collectors behind, the petty annoyances of co-workers, the feeling of helplessness sometimes when it comes to decisions dealing with my son.
Today being Tuesday, I will be leaving for work in about an hour. My shift on Tuesdays has the plus of being without any bosses for the last half of the day. Although, I do still have to work with the most ate-up (an old air force insult, meaning he has his nose far up the managements anal recesses) and antsy twenty-something I've ever met. He struts around like he's managing a nuclear power plant or something. I like a chill atmosphere at work, because it's a bookstore after all. Ah well. He's never been in the military, or the manufacturing industry. This is probably the most important job he's ever had, so when he walks around with his coffee cup in his hand and his pen behind his ear, you know he is as serious as a heart attack. Me? I'm never serious about work.