Mount Gummery

I haven't felt good since I got down here. I couldn't explain it, but I wasn't feeling right. I have no appetite even though I can eat anything I want, anywhere I want. More than once I have realized that I was shouting at the top of my lungs inside the car at no one in particular. Sometimes I feel listless, other times I'm giddy.
Then, while I was on the phone with Mandy, it hit me.

Guilt.

I feel guilty for being down here. How lame is that? Everyone at the lab is having to work a little harder to make up for my abscence, Mandy is having to be a single mom. I'm down here hanging out in a hotel room doing nothing and eating free meals out on the town. For roughly 6 hours a day I sit in a classroom and daydream of asphalt pies and tar-baby tea cakes with a bunch of guys who, don't get me wrong, are really good guys. I would take any of them with me to a street fight and I would leave my wallet with them if the occasion ever arose that I would need to leave it with someone. (and what, might you ask, would that situation be? Good question, maybe I will think about that all night tonight while staring at the carpet in my room.) Real salt of the earth kind of guys.
But we all know what salt does to something fresh, it dries it out. Like beef jerky. None of these guys would ever invite me over to hang out at the house and likewise I would never invite them to mine. No offense given or taken.
I just realized that I haven't spoken to anyone this week except Mandy on the phone and a few words to the instructor! That is another BIG problem, a talker with no one to talk to. I think I will go engage the front desk clerk in an amazingly in-depth discussion about the cleaning crews unique ability to clean my room magnificently and yet quickly. When he asks me if I would like to speak to the manager I will shout, " Fabulous!" and fan my hands out just so.
The Feista wasn't so bad, I actually won 10 dollars in gift certificates to Cucos. I hate Cucos. I gave them to a guy in class who grunted at me. I sat on the couch watching a bunch of guys on T.V. throw a ball through a hoop for about 5 million a shot each and wondered what they would do with the 10 dollar gift certificates. Next to me, at a table, two women were discussing the product they were about to sell. Lucky me, it was epidural needles! They whipped out their nifty single serving pouches full of medical equipment and started strowing it all over the table.
One lady went through the sales pitch in a sing-song kind of way while the other took notes. Sometimes, the first lady would stop and interject little 'industry' hints like, "Don't put this part out front of the display because it tends to make people nervous." and, "If they ask about this part breaking, tell them it is only on rare occasions when the nurse pulls back. They should never pull back. Say it like that and move on to these, they are a safer subject."
Needless to say, I skipped the salsa and other un-identifiable foods and went to "Smokey Bones" bar-b-que and ended up sitting across from "THE-GUY-IN-THE-VAN-DOWN-BY-THE-RIVER!!!!"
No lie. I took pictures. Maybe I should have asked for a motivational speech to get me out of this funk.