Day 276

We're getting there. In double digit days unti I get out of here. We're getting there. Would somebody please tell me what I was thinking when I wanted to stay for 7 more months in this place? I don't know what I was thinking. Feel free to slap me up along side the head when you first see me. You only get one apiece. :)
That which gets me through my day; images of family and friends, familiar settings, fond rememberences of places with color. That's the day-time. The last image I conjour before falling asleep is a simple one; I'm in my camper, set up in a secluded area, all of the windows are zipped down, and through the front, I see a lake, about 100 yards away, blue water, a cloudless day, a windless day, and the lake is almost glowing with its blueness. The grass from the camper to the waters edge is manicured and green. Out the window to my left is all grass and trees. Out the window to the rear is grass, green and manicured, heavily populated with trees, and a steep hill. I'm not sure if I'm in the foothills of the mountains, or just in a place with a hill. To my right I can see grass and trees. No people. Not one. Peace, and quiet, and solitude. As much as I am looking forward to seeing everybody and quitting my job, I think I need to live in my camper for about a month. And if I can find this secluded place, so much the better.
Ok, there is one more thing I've been contemplating. Not that I've put much thought into this, so bear with me. I am looking forward to sitting in a bar. The bartender brings me a bottle of Grain Belt Premuim and a frosty mug. The mug has been sitting in the freezer for about 17 months, building up an unbeliveably thick layer of ice. I twist the cap off of the bottle, tilt the mug towards the bottle, and slowly pour the beer into the mug. I put the bottle on the bar, close the bartenders side, as it's now empty and needs a proper burial. I lift the mug to my lips, gently tilting the bottom away from my chin and in a slight upward direction. As the first drops of beer touch my tounge, pieces of ice, which have been floating at the top of the mug, rest against my upper lip. I swallow the beer; once, twice, and then once again. I lower the bottom of the mug and pull it back from my mouth. I set the mug back on the bar and use the back of my hand to wipe off my upper lip. A sound escapes my lips. It is a mixture of; one-half part satisfaction, one-half part delight and one-half part fulfillment. Yes, I know that is three halves, but that's what you get when you drink Grain Belt Premium.