Every exit an entrance

Well, here we are at midnight. It's been a frantic couple of weeks, but everything's in place with eleven hours to spare. What's funny is that getting this far has been a journey in itself. I've had to walk a long way down the footpaths just to find the beginning of the highway. So tonight and tomorrow morning mark not only the beginning of one journey but also the end of another. Now the terrain changes. I've prepared, but not for everything. I don't know where I'm staying on most nights, how I'm getting from Denver to San Francisco, or even where I'm doing my laundry. That's enough planning. The future is a glorious mess. For the next month, preparation and execution will be simultaneous. I don't know what's going to happen -- whether this will be one of the best or worst times of my life, or what kind of meaning it will turn out to have, or if it might turn out to have no meaning. I don't know. But that's the point.

The car's name is Blackbird. That's also the name of the song I'll cue up on my iPod when I pull out of the driveway. I'll see you next on the road!