Tired and hungry

Tired and hungry, it sometimes takes a short step away from everything to be able to deal with it.

“Deep breath. Deep breath. Deep breath.”

It didn’t appear to be working. Of course, breathing doesn’t feed you. Neither does having no money.

Yet, those are the two things I can do at the moment. Having just shelled out my last $83 for a room at the Motel 6 outside of downtown Memphis, a place I stayed at over a decade ago in a very similar situation, I wondered if I’d make it through the night without having a panic attack.

What a man I was, I thought to myself. I’ve got to get a grip on it. Stop driving myself into these situations where I hadn’t eaten and my sugar levels were too low. How the hell did I get so old and have such old man problems? Another thought bubbled up. If I was a cartoon panel, I’d be full up now. And nothing would be resolved. Guess I could be a serial comic strip. But those things usually suck.

The bug bite on my art looks nasty. Almost like a nipple now. I wonder if it was something poisonous. I really don’t care, at the moment, except that I’m staring at it. It almost stares back with its red bulbous raised section.

Eww.

I may have grossed myself out now.

Not as much as the first night. In the flea bag hotel. I even had second thought about pulling into the place, but the front looked acceptable, so I guess that’s why she chose it. I would’ve paid the extra 15 bucks, but we didn’t and paid the price.

The acrid odor of stale cigarettes filled the room as soon as we opened the door. So much for the “No Smoking” option. At least they didn’t charge us for it.

The bed was a King sized one. Perfect size for sure. But the pillows were stained with dirt. The sheets were stained with God knows what and let’s not even talk about the floor. I noticed a crushed up piece of food near the recliner – which itself looked like it had been humped endlessly by two male dogs that had not been neutered. I quickly pushed the chair over it, then thought about how gross it was to just touch the chair.

The toilet seat had a cigarette burn on it. Not just a little bit of melted plastic, but a hole from it singing straight through it. No toilet paper either.

Good thing the girlfriend brought some. I was never that prepared.

The curtains also had cigarette burns, so I started seeing what else did or didn’t. Carpet? Yes. Door? Yes. Sink? Yes. Television? No. Mirror? No. Towels? Yes and no. Some did, some didn’t. Of course, some had dirt on them.

I peered into the shower, at least there were no roaches. That night in the Roach Motel in Galveston, Texas, where the water actually was filled with baby roaches will stay the champion of awfulness.

There was however, a dead spider. At least I hoped it was dead. Maybe that’s what gave me the arm titty?

I slept like a rock there. She? Not so much. I can sleep anywhere if it’s dark and quiet.

I would drive from Augusta to Memphis the next day. Stopping in many places along the way, including Birmingham, where we had Dreamland BBQ. That made the afternoon pretty nice. We arrived in Memphis, I went to two places I wanted to go, took photos and then we searched for a room. Ended up at the Motel 6. Seems to be a recurring theme in the life of me. Driving around aimlessly. Getting worked up. Staying at a Motel 6. Maybe that’s my movie idea? Motel 6 man?

That makes me think of Gainesville. Me wiping oil off of my hood with some industrial strength cleaner that took the pain off too. The red pain of that Acura. Watching people watch me clean off the car and see that bloody looking rag I was using just trickle all over the place was priceless. Almost worth the agony that was that trip. But, not quite. At least not yet. I’ll get over it. Right?

The next step is to motivate to get out of the room. Have a little bit of fun for a bit.

Smile. Kiss. Hug. Pat on the butt. Get back on the right track and stop all of this mopey behavior. Life’s too damn short. Buck up buddy.