Driving home from Corvallis, from a disappointing game hosting ASU at home (men's basketball..."get on the bandwagon if you're not already"), my dad and I were on the subject of the impending family cruise for Spring Break. He said something about locking Trac and Hay's I-Phones in the room safe so they don't get stolen. Riiiiight, good idea, I-Phones are expensive...I didn't think about that. I was thinking I was right in the comfort zone with my $20 phone not caring if it fell overboard.
Then my dad informed.
"There won't be any reception on the ship."
What???!?!? No reception??!?!? No texting for a week??!??! How will I survive?!?!?!
I started to hyperventilate for about 10 miles somewhere between Cottage Grove and Sutherlin, I think. One week. Seven days. I don't know the hours (you do the math, I'm way too lazy as I let my Mint Julep Mask dry). Ughhhh. Really? No reception? I think I might pass out a day and a half in. I can't do it. I need my umbilical cord. I can't send smoke signals from that far out. And the carrier pigeons will probably die off mid-flight somewhere over Texas.
As you can tell, I'm still distraught over these. It's my lifeforce. When Obi-Wan says, "use the force"...that is my force. My only force. And now I can't use it. How will I get my TIE-Fighter out of the bog? I wonder if I can find a way to hack into CIA satellites to continue my connection with everyone. (Collin, are you for hire?)
So ya, I'm starting to get jittery from that Irish Cream Latte I had at Sutherlin. It was a long drive. I hate up and backs (was driving at 6:08am this morning northbound). So I think I'm going to clean my clay mask off and try to call it a night. We'll see. After getting up at 5:00 this morning, I should be able to sleep. Dutch Bros. may have a different agenda.
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