A Busy Boy

This has been the busiest, most physically demanding, tiring weeks since my release. The week flew by, but I'm exhausted. I like my job. I especially like that it keeps me busy and I don't just sit all day. I rarely sit even when I have the chance, unless I'm on break. So, that's why I haven't written a post for a few days. Even this very minute, I'm not even sure what I'm going to write next, but it will come to me.

Ahhhh, yes. Here we go...

When you wake up from a meth bender, or as I called it, life, there is often confusion: where am I? Where's my meth? What day/time/month is it? What did they steal while I was sleeping? Or, why am I driving backwards?

I didn't have time to think that. I just knew something was wrong, and I was fucked. I was leaving Rochester and headed for Chatfield where I was going to sleep. Unfortunately, I couldn't wait. I remember swerving a couple times, then all of a sudden I woke up to a sickening spinning sensation. I had fallen asleep just before a big corner and it was icy out. When I understood what was going on I was going backwards toward the ditch at about 60 mph. It had been snowing for a while and when I started going over the edge, an explosion of white enveloped the car and I couldn't see in any direction. It was dark out and the headlights made the eruption quite blinding. There was no time to think or be scared. The noise was deafening as I passed over ice and snow and grass and debris. I knew it was coming: impact.

When I hit, it wasn't at all what I expected. In my first meth crash, I went airborne at 70 over two culverts and hit a cement drain pipe. The car was destroyed, and I was lucky to be alive. My impact was slowed greatly by the snow, and the incline at the end of the ditch slowed me even more go the point where the noise was just done. No bang. No explosion. Just no noise.

I slowly got out, looked around for witnesses, ( It wasn't my car. It had no insurance, I had pockets full of drugs and cash, and I just didn't want any attention.) And made a call. Five minutes later I had a safe ride to the flop house. Another close call.

The next day a few of it went back to dig the car out which, in the daylight appeared to be about ten feet in the air from a mile away. I had parked it nicely on a pile of snow. It took us 15 minutes to get it off the hill and determine that it was still drivable.

So, there you have it. I kept it short because I'm tired and I want to go to bed. I hope you enjoyed it and continue to read my blog.