Once I got on I 90, I decided the Ohio path was the way to go. It was the shortest, even with the unending traffic around the major cities. I should be in Nashville in no time. I might make it before the morning visiting hours if I was careful. I stopped at a rest stop right when I entered Ohio, and I called mum to let her know I was on my way. She was careful in speaking with me to let me know that I had time to get there and to be cautious on the roads. She was worried about me driving on the interstate. I was not really a good driver, and I was arguably worse on the interstate, but it could not be helped. She told me Gran was stable and that the doctors were hopeful but that she was too tired to speak with me now. I told mum I loved her and to give Gran a kiss and that I was on my way.

I got back into the Rogue and put on another cd without looking first at what the cd was and got a David Bowie greatest hits compilation. It was rocking, and I listened to it on repeat for an hour. God, the road is so boring. I started counting barns as I drove and then churches and then horses and then pick-ups. I was counting anything halfway interesting to keep awake. I passed Cincinnati. Not much longer, and I would be within spitting distance of the Cumberland Gap and Tennessee. Traffic started moving much faster than I am used to. People driving 80 mph past me like I was standing still. I sat bolt upright in my chair, squared my shoulders over the steering wheel, and settled into a rhythm matching the traffic around me.