In case anyone cares, I’m trying to home in on an actual day of departure from this godforsaken snowscape. (By the way, “home” is not a typo in that sentence; I looked it up. The sound of the sentence in my ear was driving me crazy, because my ear wanted an ‘N’ there, but home it is.)

When I talk to folks, they hear hesitation in my voice and seem to interpret it as lack of resolve in going West. But, damnit, I’m going. I got to try something different or call the game over and stock up on booze, pills and razorblades.

The vocal hesitation is more rising panic than lack of resolve. When undertaking big projects, I tend to pile everything up into one, giant ball of everything that needs to be done and then hyperventilate at the enormity. I then repeatedly tell myself that it can’t be done, no matter what I do.

Somewhere, as I am gripped by every neurotic thought of failure that I can possibly conceive, lightness and clarity enter, and I realize that, yah, I probably can do whatever it is. About that time, I can chunk off the smaller pieces and so, baby steps begin.

That’s about where I am right now.

After months of getting seemingly incongruous or unnecessary things done, I feel like forward motion is not just possible but rolling along. With my home repairs almost all done, for example, I can picture someone else willing to pay rent. With my resume all shiny and formatted, I can envision gainful employment.

Soooooo, the date keeps changing, but with unemployment to end sooner rather than later, I’m focusing on an actual target. I wanted to be in my car and on the road or in California by my and M.’s birthdays in early March. Mostly just because that would be cool.

Now, however, because I want to plan a kickass show and maybe a kickass bon voyage party for myself, I’m thinking I will be here the first week in March. Quite possibly, there will be a show Thursday, March 3 (Happy Birthday to M.) and a party that night or Friday night.

Then, I jump in my car that weekend and me, my iPod mini and my GPS navigator experience manifestdestiny. I’ll have turned 41, and America’s highways will be my playground.