NPR...Don't Fail Me Now.

I finally managed to slime my way bonelessly out of bed after having all sorts of weird nightmares about fishing, being held hostage at work, and my ex-girlfriend. Fun.

The "held hostage at work" metaphor is directly related to the fact that I agreed to work today (in the middle of my five day holiday) because we're shorthanded. So I'm sure my malaise is partly related to my enthusiasm for the task, which is currently none.

However, I'm very enthusiastic about my May project, which is to take a week off and go fetch my oldest and her boyfriend and their cats and all their stuff, and bring them back to be our neighbors. Yay! The world is awry when mothers live 1600 miles from their daughters.

Of course, the punishment for that happiness will be that long horrid drive across Texas, affectionately known as The Armpit Of The Universe. Chief among my myriad reasons to dislike all things Texas is the ungodly number of silly, pretentious Texans. Somebody once told them that Texas was colorful or unique or something, and they all seem hell bent on trying to prove that they're worthy...by being so self-consciously colorful and unique that they tend to come across as tiresome cookie-cutter versions of unique.

If everyone is unique in the same way...I hate to tell you, Texas...it stops being unique.

One of my favorite qualities about Midwesterners is how self-effacing they are. They don't make a fuss or show off or pretend to be more important than they are. The prevailing attitude is that the world will judge all of that by our deeds, not by our flashy possessions.

We're not unique either, but at least we're honest enough to admit it...and we're okay with that. Uniqueness isn't really anything to strive for. It's just asking for trouble. The world generally does not treat you well when you've made the mistake of being flashy enough to catch it's eye. Better to quetly live your life, go to work, mow your lawn, go fishing and slip below the radar than to laboriously climb onto a pedestal so the universe can knock you off.

So I'll try to get through Texas as fast as I can, listening to 12 or 15 hours of NPR talk shows, and breathe a sigh of relief when I get to New Mexico. Remember Thelma and Louise? They were right. It IS better to die than go to Texas.