I am tired.

My legs ache.  My thighs are so sore and tight that they may snap at any moment.

I've simply had enough.

I've rushed and rushed and rushed hurried and been pushed as far as I can go, and now my body can't take it anymore.

Neither can my car.

They're both on strike against me.  They've formed a union.  I need scabs.  Quickly.  Somehow I need to show them I'm in control here.  Not them.

I don't need their cooperation.  I'll get rough.  I'll work without a leg.  Drive without a tire.  Drive with my feet... er, foot, if I have to, dammit.

Whoa.  Am I ever drugged.  And my legs still feel like they have pins stuck in them all along my thighs.  I am trying to type quickly and coherently while reflecting on exactly how I got to this point, get my thoughts out before I pass out here in the dark.....

My Angel worries about me.  I think practically anyone who didn't used to be married to me worries about me.  I have worked so much for so long lately, I've dropped 25 pounds in two months.  I simply haven't had the time or energy left over to eat anything.

None of this bothers me, really.  None of the money I earn goes to me.  I'm not doing this for myself.  Every effort I make, every breath I exhaust, every day I spend inside getting hastled and jostled -- it's all for something so much greater than me.

I can sleep peacefully with that in mind.