Day 8: St. Louis / Back to Reality

Ahh, tomorrow my little haven comes to an end, as all little havens do, and I shall return to the bright white heat of the outside world.

To the shock of precisely nobody that knows me, I’m turning tail and fleeing the fucking South before I even get into it, because fuck this 105 degree bullshit.  I’m retracing my steps back up to Bloomington tomorrow via train, and then striking out eastwards.  From there I’ll be basically bikesclusive (fuck off) at least until I reach the coast, which is scary/exciting.

From Bloomington I’m heading to Champaign/Urbana, about 55 miles — anybody want to grab some tennis rackets, roleplay David Foster Wallace and then cry a little bit with me? — and then aim myself towards Indianapolis, though things get a little nebulous past Champaign.  If by “a little nebulous” one means “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing”.  Which one does.

At least I’ve finally started getting some TV shows loaded onto this Chromebook so I can always just drink alone, watch the same like five minutes of Firefly or Supernatural over and over again and cry into my pillow and it’ll always feel just like home.