A Farewell to Country Living

Well, a month has come and gone and it is time for me to depart this little forgotten spot of earth. I have to say its been an interesting few weeks. I had hopes of posting more blogs, but I found myself either too depressed to verbalize the situation, or too busy to take the time to write anything.

There have been some interesting moments, like when I went into town to pay my parents' water bill. After driving around the three main (and practically only) roads in the center of Red Boiling Springs for ten minutes, fruitlessly looking for any sign that said "water" or even "utilities", I gave up and asked at the local post office. I patiently waited in line behind the post office's only other customer, an elderly woman that smelled of vodka and had the same number of teeth in her head as most households have televisions. I even bought stamps as a pretense to be on friendly enough terms to ask directions. But my efforts failed, he barely even raised his head and grumbled rough directions and pointed to the north; all I could make out was "flag pole" and "police cars." So, I drove around a little more until I found the police car (yes, the town has just one) and a flagless flag pole...right across the street from the post office, sheesh! City Hall. The thought occurred to me that the postman gave me bogus directions to either alert the locals to the presense of an outsider or flob me off onto someone else. At the risk of being sold into some redneck version of a black market sex ring, I walked into City Hall and asked the woman and police officer standing behind the desk for directions to the water department. She smiled and said, "well you found us, hon!" My response?..."Wow." She smiled again and said, "oh we do just about everything at City Hall." Hmmm...maybe they should consider taking over the post office too.

But overall, my visit has been kind of boring. I was in the house more often than not. My days have consisted of wasting the time between breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Some days I was at a loss as to where all the hours went. I am starting to believe that my parents built their home atop a portal to the space-time continuum. Or maybe getting the life sucked out of you is too emotionally painful, and those memories are still, at this very moment, being repressed.

I think once I am back in Clarksville I will take the time to reflect more upon my sojourn. Right now I am so anxious to be home that I think my opinion may be marred by my fed-upedness.