It's in the photograph

We drew on the sidewalk with washable chalk. By sidewalk, I mean the pavement of the local elementary school. We laughed, talked, drew, waved to the security cameras. I taught her how to drive stick-shift too.

And so I found myself tonight on the highway. Where last time I felt a strange urge to get into an accident, felt an eternity was passing between cities, this time I just listened peacefully to my music and looked at my new photo. It's sepia.

Therefore I feel some pangs of regret. Regret for delayed action. Regret for melodramatics I instill into my own life. Mostly just for not acting sooner though. Two months. Two months left. And an iminent week of anticipation. Then again, I suppose I should be grateful.

Now I start to wonder, just who am I writing this blog for? My father has it bookmarked, so evidently he reads it. My sisters, possibly read it. I'm updating it now for Calvin, my #1 fan. Thanks, fan. I'll write later on when I'm not in such a weird mood (I'm getting kind of sick).

Cough.