It was surprisingly warm last night in the Airstream. Low sixties, maybe high fifties. I’ve been sleeping in a wool poncho I got in Mexico, so that might very well have been helping as well. Before dawn, a crazy wind kicked in and I had to get up and secure some things, because even with windows and door shut, if not latched properly they rattle like hell. There are plenty of breezes that get through the seals. When I got back in bed Frank crawled under the blanket and poncho with me. It got cold, but not til the sun came up. Then it kept getting colder.
I woke up when the wind literally shook me out of bed. Frank had also skooched me to the edge so that spill was partially his fault too. Falling in the Airstream sucks. You hit everything. Like I could’ve literally landed my head in the oven. The camper was swaying so much because of the deflated tire, the uneven parking space, and the blasted super wind cutting down the mountain at 70mph. I could hear things outside snapping and falling and breaking. Desert debri stings.
I grew up in the south. I know you don’t stay in a trailer in a wind storm. So Frank and I put Cheese-cat outside (he has a safe spot) and went to the grocery store and laundromat. The awful wind wouldn’t stop and it was honestly pissing me off, coupled with a handful of folks being extremely deficient at their jobs, and Frank being a total jerk about some cheese snacks I had in my purse, I was having a truly awful day. I had to fight just to shut doors, keep groceries in their bags, my laundry off the parking lot, and it kept getting colder.
I haven’t yet unpacked any of my bags except a weekend bag from a month ago, because there is nowhere for me to put everything right now. I’m crowded. So at the laundromat I was that human (we’ve all seen them) who literally took off her coat, her sweater, and her socks in public by the washer and threw them all in, then hung out for an hour in only dress pants and a wife beater, doing a crossword by a glass wall on the busiest street in town. My eyes felt like they did when I had pink eye. Was the wind giving me pink eye? The idea pissed me off. I was stewing in crankiness. Not my best showing.
Some rando came over and offered to get me stoned. Seriously. I was that disheveled and unhappy. He buggered off and then people mostly left me alone. But then after an extremely chilly patio beer with Mr. Frank and a pretty sunset we decided to get a cheap hotel room and a warm bath. We shared some junk food and I changed my poncho and now all I felt was tired.
Oh, and pure joy. Because on the way to get junk food I saw this beauty and had to do a double take.
That’s right. Waffle House has a food truck. So life headed in at least one right direction today. Kaboom, y’all… now what sort of party should I get catered?