Tripping Thru Recovery

I drove clear across Nebraska today!  The skies were overcast and the road was bumpy.  It made me extremely sleepy, like the lull that puts a baby to sleep when riding in the car.  There were dried up corn fields everywhere, so not a lot of exciting scenery to keep me engaged.  It was dang cold, especially when I’m used to temperatures around 80 in April in Alabama.  It was still not a dreary day, just dreary weather.

The plan was to make it to Iowa and spend the night in Des Moines, but fate had a different plan for me.  I got to Des Moines alright and saw a sign for Cracker Barrel at Exit 164.  I was sleepy and hungry.  Yep, that was the exit for me.  I’d find a place to stay close to that delicious hash brown casserole.  As luck would have it, I took a wrong turn and that road spit me out on the other side of the city.  No casserole for me.  Acceptance of the way things turn out sometimes is a hard one for me, even something seemingly insignificant.  At first I was mad at myself for making the wrong turn, I took some deep breaths, then tried to think of the positives.  I’d be closer to Chicago, which is my next destination, I wouldn’t be in the big and very busy city of Des Moines, and I would not be spending the money to eat out.  Tuna it would be!

I ended up in a small town called Newton, Iowa (about an hour East of Des Moines) where the people were super friendly, and had a great sense of humor.  They laughingly reinforced what I already knew, there was no Cracker Barrel in town.  They helped direct me to a motel close by where I settled in for the night.  I ate my trusty tuna, pretending it was hash brown casserole, then crashed hard for the night.