The apple doesn't fall

Me Pops and me Grandpa Joe were anxious men when it came to road trips. I find that I am increasingly so too.

Yesterday I wanted to leave at about 2 AM for a trip to Electric Eel, Indianapolis, and Coldwater Michigan before returning home. My first appointment was in Indy for 9, so there was no point in leaving too early. I took a melatonin tablet and was asleep by 5:30.

Now, going to bed early is fine if you can stay asleep for eight hours. I woke up at 9:45. And you know how it is when you try to force yourself to go back to sleep. You can't. The anxiety wells that you'll miss the alarm and such.

Yet I laid in bed for hours trying to cajole myself into a snooze anyway. Not. Gonna. Happen. I finally showered and left about 1, figuring I could kill time on the road. And I may as well be moving anyway by then.

I found an all night restaurant around 2:30 in Perrysburg, Ohio. I had hoped for the breakfast menu, maybe have an omelette. Alas, the breakfast menu wasn't up and would not be until 4. I ordered the breakfast of champions: chicken fingers with tater tots and Arizona Ranch dipping sauce. Who says you can't get sophisticated dipping sauces at roadside diners in northern Ohio in the middle of the night? Not me. After that, I had killed enough time to make my schedule with ease.

Anyway, the whole thing began because I was too excited about my trip to get back to sleep.  I guess that's all I got this morning.