Every story has a murder

I knew this was coming, for reasons.

Eventually we’ll have to figure out what this project is and who it’s for. Do I want to tell the truth, and how much? For now I’ll stick with un incriminating details and vague universal truths.

Yesterday got away from me and I didn’t write, but you didn’t miss much. It was an important day. I packed my stuff (it all fit in the prius. I really wasn’t sure if it would. I even brought my guitar) and we drove the 6+ hours through the icy snow. That might have been my first mistake of many. I forgot to remember how cold it gets up here. For example, 25 degrees fahrenheit in Detroit is cold. So 15 degrees in Marquette is even colder.

The room is great and terrible. There’s the aforementioned two double beds – I pushed them together and put the end table in the middle to one side, then Wendy can use the chair to climb up onto both beds. Your lounging needs will be met. The desk is bigger, the bathroom has more counter space. The tv is a little bigger but I don’t think it’s smart. Actually I dont know, I haven’t turned it on. The Nomad Internet I paid a fortune for works great. that is a relief. And I know that I need it because I unplugged it for a second and the zoom went to shit. I made one good choice. or did I? If the whole thing is folly than paying 450 extra for internet for your vacation isn’t actually a good choice.

As you can see I’ve got a bad attitude about things. I’m detoxing from my comforts and I feel lonely and stupid. Today, my second day, a really dumb thing happened. It hurts to talk about and think about but here it is: I lost my passport. I could have sworn it was in my fanny pack. I swore I felt for it and there it was, but alas, it’s gone. Don’t ask me if I looked in all my pockets. My mother will look in my house but I know it’s useless. In truth, I probably dropped it in a rest stop field chasing after my dog somewhere along the way. It’s the only valid picture ID I have left because I lost my wallet in nearly identical circumstances in Europe this summer. Swore to god it was in my fanny pack, it wasn’t. This is when ADD is so painful. I tell my clients not to let the rejection sensitivity eat them alive (people use this term to refer to social rejection but I feel it more when I make a mistake. maybe there’s a better word for it) but I don’t know how to feel anything other than ashamed and worthless at the moment.

It feels like the whole trip is ruined but maybe it isn’t, I don’t know. I should be able to scrape together enough documents to get my drivers license when I get back to Detroit in 3 weeks. I wanted to join a gym here, though. The cold. how will I get my running in. The old fashion way, Molly. The Rocky 4 way.

The promise that I am currently making to myself is that I won’t give up. it will be interesting to see how depressed I am tomorrow. Today I am 3/10 happy. Tomorrow could be a 4? Build it and they will come. Build what? Who’s they? Come where? Details.