The past few weeks I'd felt a coil of anxiety tightening. I thought it was work or the upcoming trip or the recent and sustained failure to meet goals on personal projects; maybe it is one of those or a combination of them. It hadn't occurred to me, though, that I might have a kind of cabin fever from having stayed close to home and projects and stuck to a regular schedule in support of the effort. But by this weekend I craved differences. I wanted to be up early, to order something novel for brunch. I wanted to go shopping. I wanted to get in the car and tear out of here. I tried to postpone it, telling myself that it would be more sensible to plan to go out of town next weekend. But that thought is finally what set the spring. So I left. Gave the poor engine of the car some rein. It's been a long time, and I was surprised to feel astonished that they let us go so fast on our own on the freeway. I feel better now, sated in a way. I guess I should schedule these kinds of day or weekend trips, like rest weeks in a training schedule.