Due to the holiday, and construction, and basically the universe’s joy in punishing me, it took something like 87.35 hours to make the 4.5-hour drive home from Gatlinburg today. At least, it seemed like it. Before getting wrapped up in all that, I thought these car socks would be appropriate for the ride home. Little did I know they’d end up an indicator of our great, molasses-slow trial on the Labor Day drive back
It’s okay, though, because despite what I can only assume was some sort of Star Trek: TNG tachyon pulse that dilated time for everyone leaving the Smoky Mountains, we made it home, safe and sound.
And I’m altogether too tired to add much more than that.