Seven days and counting. That’s all I’ve got until I get on a plane and head for the ATL, hot lanta, the dirty south. I’m not sure excited is the term I should use here. As I write this there is a nervous twirl in my stomach. Kind of like the anticipation before a first date. Waiting at the door for her to answer. Imagining what she’ll look like. Hoping I look okay. Check your fly son. Good, it’s up. Does my breath stink? No, whew, good. That twirl in the stomach.
This is definitely a first date with the AT. She has been a distant dream for so long. I’ve fantasized about her. Pondered her various twists and turns. Heard all the stories about how she always provides and how she’ll chew you up and spit you out. She’ll change your life. She’ll break your heart. All of that and I still want to meet her. Get to know her for myself. See if we are a match for a longer term relationship. Wow, this metaphor is really working for me right now.
So I’m just seven days from this first date. Still lots to do. I have gone through my packing list, done a test pack and readied most of the food. I still need to get a few more odds and ends together so I spent a few minutes this morning making a daily chore list of things to get done before I leave, color coded no less. I’ve still got to spray down all my gear with Permithrin prior to packing it for the final time. This is to keep the ticks, chiggers, mosquitoes and other nastier bug life at bay to some level. Between that and the Picaradin, a Deet alternative, I generally stay bug/pest free. However, here again, the AT is an unknown. She may reject my selection of cologne and choose to treat me to the death of a thousand bug bites. There is still a pillow to be made, some few items still to pick up, plus packing the bag for the vacation with the family in hillbilly heaven.
Excited is not the word. Anticipation, per chance. Yes I know that implies a level of excitement. Just not sure if the AT is gonna be the girl for me. There is so much built up imagination. She may turn out to be as beautiful as everyone says but I just won’t fall in love. She could be the proverbial girl with a great personality.
She could turn out to be like my wife. When I first saw her I thought she was older than me. Having just dated a girl that was older than me, by several years, early cougar might apply, and that train wreck of an experience, I was not going to go down the older woman road regardless of the number of years or her beauty. When I realized she was actually a few years younger than me, well the hunt was on and, as they say, the rest is history. I won her heart and we are soul mates to say the very least. We’ll celebrate twenty years in marriage in October. If it weren’t for the fact we have two kids, the oldest being thirteen in October, we’d swear we’d have only been married less than ten. It’s still fresh, still fun, still hands down the best decision I ever made.
Should the AT be like my wife, I’m in trouble. Can’t shake my girl. I’m afraid if I can’t shake the AT. Does a 5 month fling with a strip of dirt and rock count as infidelity in a marriage? God I hope not.