I feel drunk.

I'm so tired, I'm at that drunk stage. Pair that with my burgeoning homesickness and you get a girl who feels like calling everyone she knows. I love you, man, you know that right? I do. I lurve evrbddy.

It's gone cool. Race day is supposed to hit 78 or so, but right now it's cool and wonderful.

I get it now. I always wondered how someone could get excited about a football or baseball game. Now I know. I'm excited about the race. The first few minutes and the last half hour are the thrilling part, but the whole experience of watching the race, eating yummy food, and knitting - I look forward to it all week. I think it'll take a visit from a beloved friend or family member (hint, hint) for me to make plans for a Sunday afternoon before November 12.

I have to get up "early" tomorrow as I've plans to go to a big market - which may be plans foregone because we have to travel part of the same route as those heading to Texas Motor Speedway... we might retool our plans and find something in the other direction. Either way, I'll be home for racetime. : ) Would have been cool to go, but I'm not going to have my first time be in some craptastic seat. No, I'll wait and take my Uncle W. and buy us great seats and we'll drink much beer and be loud together. Then we'll sober up on the 20 mile or so walk back to the car. See, I've got it all planned out.

And with working 70+ hours this week, I think I'll be able to save enough money to buy at least one day of fantastic Atlanta Motor Speedway seating. Mmm hmm.

You know you're tired when driving home, you laugh gleefully and childishly because you are amused at the size of the spit bubbles you can make while waiting at a redlight. I'm giggling because I wrote that and reminded myself. I'm taking my sorry ass to bed now.