I called my mom after the bridge. I told her that I was still not in the best head space, but that I was going through with it anyway. That could be my life story. Western Louisiana was yielding to the hood of my Subaru. I told my mom that I've been unsatisfied with the work I've been doing on the road, that I put too much pressure on myself. She told me to take that pressure off. If you knew my mother, you would know how funny that is. She is the queen of impossibly high standards, the most industrious person I have ever known in my life. Taking the pressure off ourselves is something we don't know how to do. It would be like asking us to wear a car on our feet instead of a pair of shoes. So instead of taking the pressure off, I stepped on it and drove as hard as I could until I had to pee. I was chugging water and sipping coffee. I made my first ever, souvenir impulse purchase at a gas station near the Louisiana-Texas border. A gator skull caught my eye. I was still in an anxious dream. It was a baby skull. It's jaws were wide open, its teeth intact, its skin shrunken and leathery. I plunked down $11.99 and headed west toward Texas with the skull of a dead reptile in my passenger seat. Later, after dinner in San Antonio, I called my mom again and told her about the skull. She asked me if I'd named the skull yet. I told her I hadn't. But now I think I should name the skull after my mom. So until I come up with a better name, my gator's skull's name is Tina.
I should be going to bed now. El Paso is supposedly ten hours from here. But before I go to bed I do want to say that I have been taking and editing quite a lot of road video, and eventually I will post those videos here. Distressingly slow internet speeds have made it impossible for me to upload big files. But the videos are coming! As soon as I get to a good connection, I'll post one. Until then, here's the toilet paper in my San Antonio bathroom. Good night.