Not my best day

I'm not really having a good day. I want to go home. I want to go back to WV so much I can feel it like a lead weight on my chest.

I want to go back to the mountains. I want winding roads, blue skies, Nascar as a religious experience and where fishing is an acceptable form of family entertainment. I want to drive roads where I can look over the cliff and see the same road below me. Where warm breezes float over rugged terrain. Where state parks are free. Where camping means family and friends visit the camper for a hot dog and a marshmallow. Where leaving work on Friday afternoon to get your camper hooked up and your fishing gear together is totally acceptable. And everyone knows not to call you because you won't have any cell phone reception anyway.

I don't want to be here where we're anonymous. Where everyone is always running at full speed and is so concerned about working they barely take a breath. We're told we live on the wrong side of town to be successful. Why does our side of town matter to anyone? We drive a truck. Daily. It's a scandal! The creeks are meant to be looked at but you aren't aloud to wade out or swim in them. We've never been out of cell phone reception.

I miss neighbors who would look after our dogs, would round up a group of men to move a piano and would smile and wave when you drove by. I miss driving in the country and seeing an old gentleman look up from his garden to wave at us as we drive by, strangers on a country road.

And I can't really go on anymore. I have to go do something else or I'll be crying again.

Country roads take me home.