The amber engine light came on. I think it's a small oil leak. The filter may not be screwed on quite enough. But, it was also 112 degrees in the desert, yesterday, and I was pushing my buggy a bit hard, so that might be it, too. Today, I slow it down a bit. I cancelled hotel reservations in Houston for Monday night because I'm probably not going to quite make it, especially if I hove to in Austin for a night, to see what's what.
Beautiful desert sunrise this morning. It reminded me of rehab, which was also in the desert. In the summer of 2002, I spent ten weeks going to lots of 12-step meetings and group therapy and talks with nutrition counselors and hanging out in the smoking pit, where everyone went to indulge the one substance addiction they were allowed to maintain, while in the clink. To be clear: I was there to get a handle on bipolar disorder and get started on losing weight, my substance abuse issue being food, rather than alcohol, drugs, or sex. Success, on both fronts, rewarded my stay. I came out weighing 230 lb.s, soon went down another 5 lb.s, and kept it off for 2.5 years before dropping more lb.s to my current weight of 195 lb.s, which I've been for about a year. And the bipolar disorder doesn't jam me up anymore. The waves are longer and smoother and I've learned to ride them.
Anyway. In the summer of 2002, I spent my evenings watching tremendous lightening storms over the Sonoran desert and listening to my fellows struggle to take responsibility for themselves. And we sang a lot of Simon and Garfunkle, for some reason. It wasn't too bad. Despite the heat.