I woke up cold and insane. No headache; still drunk. Water jug frozen. Cold feet through thick socks and two layers of sleeping bag.
Back to sleep.
I woke up again an hour and a half later. I laid on my back and watched the clouds of my breath. Finally, I emerged from the bags. I cranked on the engine and tried to confer with my mind. I tried to recognize anything that looked like an idea or a plan. I hadn't had dinner, and I was hungry as fuck. I felt like a cold piece of garbage.
I navigated my boat to I-95, and plowed toward the suburbs, stopping for a hot hoagie and huge coffee along the way.
It was an easy day of arctic reading. Then I met Kat for wings at Victory. We went back to her place and sat around some more. Being that it's Friday, she didn't have work, so we stayed up a little bit later. I'm thankful as hell to have a friend in Kennett Square, and I'm glad we've been getting together more often. We'll always be close whether I'm around or not, but it's been nice to regularly check in.