road trip

My toenails are sticky, newly-painted a shade darker than cotton-candy pink. The camera and the smallest laptop are in the trunk, and, though I've already packed far too many t-shirts and pairs of jeans, I'm googling the weather at my destination. I need to fill up the gas tank, but I'm gulping an enormous latte while I try to finish one last project and send out one more round of emails reminding everyone that I won't be back til Tuesday. I'm ready, I'm set, and, if I can just type fast enough and find a map that shows me exactly how to get there, in about an hour, I'll be gone.