FONTANA, CA - WHY AM I STILL HERE, GODDAMMIT?
Sitting around the hotel waiting for Werner to find me a trainer. STILL. Already changed my preference to coed, so as to get the hell out of here faster. D and I have been doing a lot of walking around, but the Inland Empire isn't the most engaging place in the world, ahem. You know it's bad when I get excited about having access to a Starbucks. The rest of the time, just sitting around and listening to truckers' stories.
About half the people at this hotel are Werner drivers, either waiting for trainers or for their trucks to get fixed. The other half is business people. It's endlessly fascinating to watch the tension between the two groups.
My friend Mandy, a former NC newsie colleague who's now a reporter in Palm Springs, drove over to hang out with me Thursday night. We ate salads and drank tea and talked about men and the failure of the news industry. After she dropped me off at the hotel, I felt even more disassociated than I've felt in the last few days, which was already pretty disassociated. Half of me wants nothing more than to get on the road and go, go, go. The other half is ready to give in to this vicious heartache and go back to NorCal.
What D keeps telling me whenever I start whining about all this is, "No matter what you think you should have done, you're here already. And you'll never forgive yourself if you go back now." She's right. I just need to get the crap out of FonTucky. Aaaaany minute now...