Answer to questions #1 - #5:

Because I?m a f*cking mindless, geographically-challenged, idiot with an abysmally low-threshold for frustration, that?s why.

Question #1: Why would you decide to drive into a region where there have been daily reports of road washouts for the past week?

Question #2: When you see a sign that reads ?ROAD OUT, THRU TRAFFIC ONLY,? why would you continue forward?

Question #3: When you stop and ask for directions, why would you fail to ask for street names or route numbers?

Question #5: Three and a half hours into your voyage, your husband* coaches you for forty minutes (thanks to your cell phone that passes out of service every 500 feet) out of the land of Deliverance and gets you within one mile of your destination, but you insist on getting on the highway instead. Wherefore, pray tell?

Never made it to the gallery. Left the house at noon on Saturday. Returned at 5:30 p.m. Was never out of the car except for the time it took to pee and refuel.

A regular joy ride.

The worst part is that instead of the creative inspiration I was seeking, I was force-fed the cold lunch of self-loathing. I hate how stupid I can be. I hate how easily I get frustrated. I hate how at core I?m nothing but an enraged two-year old who can?t tie her own shoes.

But I did make it home. And Sunday was lovely--except for the black bear standing (standing! not on all fours! standing!) at the end of my drive when I took the dogs out for a walk. Both dogs are safe?Ollie was on a leash and Henry (God bless him) came back when I called. Now it's Monday and I'm ready to turn the page.

*For the record, if I ever had a screaming, crying fury with expletives pouring out of her mouth like so many snakes and toads on the telephone, I would no more stay on the line with her than I would willingly travel cross-country in an overflowing port-o-potty. The fact that my husband didn?t direct me to keep heading west until I saw the street sign for Sunset Boulevard amazes me. He deserves so much better.

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