To this day I have not memorized my own license plate number. I am a shame to society. Perhaps I should keep this “status” in order to rebel. I have only noticed this now since I am in my room overlooking the driveway (one solid sheet of glorious ice keeping me home once again from school for a few hours) in which my truck is parked facing away from me. I still wonder why my dad doesn’t drive it. I suppose he’s shrunken down a bit since the cancer came back. He does seem smaller and shorter. You should see how much weight he’s lost! No diet is as powerful as a good dose of cancer and chemo. At this rate, my grandmother will be as thin as paper in a few months. Eek.
Nevertheless I am staring out into the cold abyss of snow and thinking to myself, “Self,” of course this is how I begin all of my conversations with self. “Self, you are in need of a vacation.”
And so it is.