This is what I get for passing out at 4 in the afternoon. It's like four in the morning and I've been wandering around for an hour now.
So I guess there's some point to this stupid writing thing after all. At least it's something to do while I wait to fall asleep. Wasn't expecting the bed to be so damn comfortable. Yeah, this cabin ain't the greatest but it's homey in its own way, I guess, kind of rustic and peaceful. 18-year old jocks should probably want to be closer to the party but right now I'm happy with a little quiet for a change. Might not last, though. Seems like a couple other guys showed up while I was crashing.
That Arthur dude was true to his word. I found some cans of beer in the fridge with my name on them. What the hell's Budvar? Some weird European knockoff of real Bud? That's what you get for hanging out near a festival. Tastes okay, though.
When I woke up I stared at the ceiling for a bit and thought a bit more about being out here and I'm feeling better about the whole thing. I mean, who the hell do I think I am anyway? The family'll get by fine without me. So I grabbed a couple of beers and went outside and it's beautiful out there, you know, really peaceful and all. The moon was up and peaking between the clouds and shining off the lake . . . it was a bit cool but nicely so . . . muggy, yeah, but a light wind took care of that. I sat down by the water and knocked back a few beers and I felt just a bit sad and....
Wow, am I sounding gay or what? It's just that it kinda reminded me of a few nights back, the night before I left, with Amy and all. Whatever. I'm outta beer. I haven't even upacked or anything. Think I'll go do that. May explore the house a bit. Work out until I'm tired. Watch the sunset or something. Later.