As the Boomer Gen reaches zombie-wave proportions, will it soon be as politically incorrect to say “demented” as it is now to say “retarded”? Anyway, it has long been known that my mental math ability is fried. But figuring that if we left Rochester on Tuesday, spent 3 days driving (or 2 overnights), we’d arrive in Daytona on Friday — that is… oy… demented.
When we’re traveling I usually make a calendar, writing in where we will be staying each night. But apparently I got over-confident and didn’t realize till this morning that we would arrive in Daytona on THURSDAY. Lucky my friend Pat had been urging us to arrive ASAP. We will have an extra day to plan the Great Dame World Takeover… if zombiehood doesn’t overtake us first.
We made it as far as Summersville, West Virginia, on a tank of gas and settled into a Comfort Inn. Because I didn’t feel like getting behind the wheel again, our dinner choices were Taco Bell or Shoney’s. We opted for the grease-feast over the salt-fiesta. Luckily, I brought my box o’ wine, so… the world is sweet.