I'm on my last load for this company, headed for the barn, as the saying goes.

I'm sitting in the first rest area on I-80 in Iowa thinking I shouldn't be writing this, but should be eating my breakfast and getting down the road. After all it's past 0800 and my 10 hours were up at 0700.

I'm writing like I'm crazy, again. Chapter 16 (5,500+ words) was done in one day. Chapter 17 may take three, depending on how I do on the road.

I'm definitely not dropping as fast as usual. I'm still a teenie tiny bit giddy. The silliest shit is funny as hell.

But, I have things to do. I have to make motel reservations for my son and the wife so they can drive down and pick me up in Salt Lake. I have too much shit to get on the plane. Of course, they'll need pet friendly motels because little Bonita will be traveling with them.

I don't, really, want to be doing this, but I have no choice, do I? I made that choice back in '74 when I married her. I "needed" to get married, so I took the first one who said yes. Now, I'm stuck with her and she pretty much dictates how I live my life. I thought she'd grow into this beautiful flower, but she's pretty much the same old girl I married in '74. You made your bed, now lie in it!

Thirty-three years this Wednesday. That's a long time to be with someone. When I came out to her a couple years ago she said she couldn't live without me. Sadly, that's true. She has no life. She hasn't tried to have a life of her own. She's practically totally dependent on me. She hasn't worked the required 40 quarters so she'll never get Social Security, she won't be eligible for Medicare, and if, heaven forbid, we did split, she wouldn't have any medical insurance, which she desperately needs (diabetes, among other things).

And, of course, I'll be 58 on Monday. It's funny being this old because men on my father's side never live to 60 and I keep getting closer. My dad died at 52. I expect the "big one" any day, but I do try to live as healthy as I can. Getting off the road will go a long way toward that end.

Most of all, though, the depression is getting me down. It's wearing on me. It affects everything I do. I'm going to the doctor on Thursday for my depression follow-up, maybe he'll suggest something. I like Wellbutrin, though. It's nice being able to get it up and doing something with it, which those SSRIs don't seem to be able to do. Mostly, though I'm tired of having depression. It's hard being happy when I shouldn't. It's devastating being sad when I don't want to.

Sometimes, I just want to walk away. No, not do myself in. No, just walk away and keep walking until I found it, whatever it was. Too bad I'm not Catholic, I could become a monk. I've done enough religion to know it's all in the mind anyway. I think it'd be kind of nice to sit quietly and contemplate for hours on end. Sounds peaceful. Of course, the celibacy would be a pain, but I'm mostly celibate now since I'm definitely not into casual sex and don't have a boyfriend. It's mostly in the mind.

Well, got to go. It's going on 0900 and I've got Iowa and half of Nebraska go drive through today. But, I do get a bath tonight. God, it will be great being able to have a bath every night! And, clean clothes every day! Sometimes I smell so bad, I offend myself!

Sorry to have vented at the end, but that's kind of what blogs are about anyway.

I should try to live according to my own advice. I keep telling people to have fun. I wish I could. No, I've had fun. It's been a good life, so far, I guess. I made baby and he grew into a man. I succumbed to the biological imperative and passed on my genes.

I look back at my choices early in life, my denial of being a homosexual, and wonder if I'd be alive today if I tried just a little bit harder to be queer. But, that's being foolish. You can't live on what ifs. No regrets.

Damn, ten minutes to nine. I've got to stop writing!