The birthday boy says he wants to be home. To sleep in his own bed tonight. I understand. After a pickup lunch at Subway--there were only a few other people there but Sunday lunch at Subway seemed downright lonely--and more road trip snacks we'd never eat at home, we're pretty tired of this.

Looking at the map we thought we'd break up the Sacramento-LA leg of the trip by spending the night in Paso Robles. But we speed by there too early in the afternoon.

Ed's driving and the highway signs say Santa Barbara is only 150 miles away, and so Home is only another hour after that. But that's 3 more hours. At least.

My butt, excuse me Babe, but my butt has gone numb from sitting on it. I discovered years ago writing my first book that I function best standing up. Thus, I have a standing writing desk. This sitting for 2,000+ miles is butt-numbing.

I don't say much. If Ed feels he can drive for another 3 hours and we pull into Home at 6 or 7, okay. But I'm so tired that I'm on the verge of tears.