Four months later. Still can’t say anything.
I wish this were about my novel. Hell, I wish I could work on it in some form or fashion, but that has to wait about five more months. I’m not a power user in the computer gaming sense, but I used to play music while having a 200-page Word document, a PDF with vector drawings and photo editing software open. Not to mention running a browser with several tabs open all the while. This Chromebook would burst into flames if I tried to do that. Doing that with my previous laptop probably explains why my previous laptop all but burst into flames.
That and the recall I got after it bricked saying that the power cord could burst into flames.
But, back to the thing I can’t say. Because I’m in an industry where being nosy is a virtue, the cat’s partially out of the bag about what’s going on. The biggest thing now is that nothing’s happened to confirm those rumors. Except for the thing earlier this month that fed into the mill.
One of my favorite things is transparency, and it’s painful to be opaque. It’s also hard to deny some things when someone’s on the money. Never mind that I also relish keeping secrets while gloating about it being a secret. The tiny capers that make up this grand thing I’ll probably never explain here have been exhausting. The last time I’ve been this vague was when I was at The Hopewell News for three years, left for six months, came back for a couple of months and then quit. Why ¾ of 2012 happened doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, especially since it was so three years ago.
What I really want is my car to myself and at least four hours of open road ahead of me. But I live in an area with real winter and I’m saving up my vacation days for a ceremonial summer road trip and/or an actual honeymoon and Bill and Karen’s wedding.
But, beyond The Changes About Which I Cannot Speak, I have other unfinished business that probably makes no sense to anyone but myself. I took the trip to the Tri-Cities I needed to take, so that’s over. I still need to visit Wilmington, North Carolina, again and visit at least one person, though. And I still need to make my much ballyhooed drive down U.S. 58 between Interstate 81 and at least U.S. 29.
On the bright side, it’ll all be over soon. At the most, this interstice will be naught but a memory by the 11th anniversary of the viaduct. I’m looking forward to it because this … thing kick starts the next phase of this grand adventure. That’s why I’m so antsy.
But, to be honest, I’m giving it two more weeks before I’m start to play by my own rules. I wouldn’t have done half of the things that occurred since June 1, 2004 if I always waited for things that were going to happen in an indefinite future.
There shall be no tercera parte to this interstice.