Friday, October 17, 2003
No, I am not in Rhode Island. Not even close. I am, in fact, in my office in Atlanta.
I think that I have become caught in some perverse and ridiculous cycle of Trips Not Taken. It's sort of a Bermuda Triangle phenomenon, turned sideways or inside out. Though I never reach my destination, I never vanish, either, because the trips never actually occur, no matter how much planning and forethought and precaution goes into the effort. I am a landlocked Mary Celeste. They'll find the car packed and filled with gas, fresh oil, a road atlas open on the front seat, but the vehicle never moves an inch. First San Francisco, then Ft. Lauderdale, and now Rhode Island.
And, yes, of course I have a good excuse. I always have a very good excuse. Like I said yesterday morning, Wednesday night I almost broke my knee.
We did leave yesterday, about noon. Never mind that my knee was swollen and feverish and various shades of red, green, black, and violet. Never mind the pain had kept me awake most of the night before. I was determined. Spooky was determined. We were going on this trip. We had places to be and things to do. I haven't had a decent trip anywhere in almost two years. We were going.
We made it as far as Fayetteville, North Carolina.
And the pain in my knee finally became too intense to ignore, and the fact that sitting for hours, unable to straighten my leg was making things worse. We stopped at a Scary Truckstop® and weighed our options and made the decision and came home. I had my knee looked at by a doctor and it isn't broken or even dislocated, it's just bruised as hell. She gave me a script for pain and inflammation and said try to stay off it for a few days, then mumbled something ominous about fluid build up that I've been trying not to think about.
And here I am. At home.
I will not visit Stonington, or Swan Point Cemetery, or Cape Ann. We won't see the Edward Gorey Museum or go whale watching or any of the other things we'd talked about doing. I won't be appearing Wednesday night at ManRay with The Crüxshadows. Because I am an idiot and ran into the bathroom door frame on my way to take a piss and almost broke my knee.
So. There you go. My New Year's resolution for 2004 is not to plan any trips that I don't actually make, regardless of circumstance. My apologies to anyone who was planning to come to the ManRay reading. My thanks the Chris Ewen for going to the trouble to arrange it.
And, as alpaca ranchers are wont to say, that's that.
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