This weird fuckin' phobia thing

I'm baa-ack.

Hey, farmboy! When did you get back?

Saturday night. I had chores to do yesterday. You know, washing the fuckin' clothes, grocery store, shit like that. Everyday stuff.

So how was the trip?

Stressful.

I'm sorry. How's your brother?

I think he's looking good and I can tell he hates this but knows it's-- the rehab, that is -- something to get through.

I spent the night in the hospital room with him so his wife could get a decent night's rest. I'm so glad I did; that was worth the trip. Being able to do something.

The stressful part was this weird fuckin' phobia thing, you know, like I became afraid of driving, and at time's just riding, in a car. Fuck, man, my fear of bridges, my fear of bridges, my fear of weather, my fear of heights...all of these are not good traveling companions on a road trip.

But...

But?

I'm glad I went, because I'm in a family and we love each other fiercely, even if we can't show it. Well, that, the In-and-Out Burger,and the ganja I was gifted by a friend.

Other stuff happened, but that'll have to wait till tomorrow. 'Cause I went back to work today and I'm tired.

Okay. Catch you tomorrow, farmboy.

Thanks, man.