I've been getting around quite a bit lately. No long trips, which pay gobs of money. Just short day trips that you hope to have enough to add up to a paycheck. The drawback is I don't have extra time. I'm busier than heck for 11 to 14 hours and then all I want to do is sleep so I can do the same thing the next day.

Finally, I've been given a breather. I delivered this morning and don't pick up my next load until tomorrow morning. Then it's a long four days west. It looks like I might make it home by the eighth, which would be nice since the wife's birthday is the nineth.

It's been kind of fun being back on the road and driving to more places than Washington, Oregon, and California. I don't look forward to having to listen to the guys on NOAA Weather to find out if my truck and load will be safe if I stop somewhere. A week ago I drove across Nebraska and they were having a lot of thunderstorms. Yesterday, when I was, once again, driving across Nebraska I came to, I'd guess, a five mile stretch of highway where a tornado had done its dirty deed.

The bad part about driving long hours is that all I want to do at the end of the day is sleep. I haven't been getting much writing done. I'd guess I'm about halfway through Chapter 8 and while I have Chapter 6 ready to go up, I'm waiting until Chapter 8 is finished.

On the psychological side, well, let's just say that I have a recognizable psychological side, now. I can see now that it was always there, but it was kept neatly under the surface where one is supposed to keep that kind of stuff. When I first went over the edge back in 2003 and 2004, I wasn't fully cognizant of being crazy. Then after some intense counseling I saw the error of my ways and became a recovered nutso on a good antidepressant.

Now, having fallen off the edge once again and having been pulled back onto my feet, I'm left with a mind that is, quite literally, living on the edge. Each day there is a struggle not to simply jump off, again. The only thing that keeps me being me and not some wacko on a gurney waiting for ECT, is the realization there is absolutely no support at home. If I jump off, I will in all likelihood not be able to get back because there won't be anyone there to pull me up.

It's a scary thought realizing that.