A travel journey. Don’t.

Deep in the wee hours when sleep is expected I count the LED lights within the hotel room at the Holiday Inn in Columbia off the interstate. One on the microwave, one on the smoke detector, one on the TV and one on the alarm clock, which I will not need, beside the bed. And the reflections of those lights in the mirror. Too many lights for me to sleep, even if I could, which I can’t, due to snoring.

No, not my snoring.

I readily admit to being a restless, light sleeper, but nothing puts me off my game more than snoring. I don’t take comfort in hearing anyone else breathe, I don’t even want to hear myself breathe. Breathing, as a physiologic phenomenon should be fairly silent, noise indicates a disturbance and is something that should have been attended to before I am subjected to its sleep disturbing effects. I don’t get how anyone can actually sleep through their own snoring, but apparently it is possible.

I understand there are a variety of reasons for this symptom to occur, but I simply, in my sleep deprived state, don’t care. Would a pillow over the face be so wrong?

Only slightly more irritaitng will be the apology upon waking to discover I have been awake longer than I was able to sleep. “I’m sorry” loses any impact after a 13 hour drive through tornado strewn states, pounding rain, flooding and no sleep.

No, I am quite sure a pillow over the face would be seen as justified. Excuse me while I go rearrange the bedding. Perhaps I can still get an hour’s sleep.

Vitamin D bolus

After the brutal winter, like many of my pale Canadians, I am in critical need of a vitamin D bolus. A life saving bolus in fact. So, the trip diagonal alley down to Pensacola Beach.

The great beach ball water tower remains but I suspect the beach has changed vastly from the pictures I remember from the 1960s. Of course, according to my travel companion, life was much better in the 1960s. But the sand, sea, surf and sunshine remain, despite BP, despite multi-million dollar homes, despite tourist trade. I can feel my sunshine requirement getting its needed boost. My hair hasn’t felt so healthy in likely 3 decades, my skin has lost it’s dry, old-lady appearance and while my eyesight has not miraculously improved, I don’t mind quite as much.

Eating is of course a bit of a challenge – gluten-free is an acknowledged dietary restriction in most places we stop, however none of them actually have a wheat-free menu. So far it has been ok, but I still have half a loaf of my special bread from home to make toast in the morning. I will need to stop at the grocery store to check it out.

Of course, like everyone else who visits I wonder about living in such a location. Are there jobs? Would they pay me enough to live here? Could I stand living under the American work ethic? I certainly could stand beaching on a daily basis, but I do appreciate my flexible work environment which I would not find down here, and then there is health care.

After my little experience with american healthcare last fall, I am pretty sure I don’t want to be without the level of insurance and care I’ve come to expect as a Canadian, but down here even with an equivalent paying job I wouldn’t have the same level of health insurance. Surprisingly, healthcare organizations don’t seem to have any perks for their employees in reduced healthcare premiums – seems like a no brainer to me, if you are running a for-profit organization don’t you offer employees some perk for being an employee?

All the way down here the radio station talk shows were full of one thing – Obama’s birth place. Seriously. Of all the issues present in both the world and the US, this, is what the kooks focus on. If only all that energy could be harnessed for good rather than idiocy.

Being away and getting vitamin D has altered my perceptions in other ways too. I have absolutely no concerns about who to vote for May 2. Seriously don’t care. I wouldn’t hire any of them, so I’m cutting them loose.

Back to sun, sand, surf and sea – I’ve thought of another S to add…Shopping! Time to locate the outlet malls, the yarn shops and who sells NYDJ.

And outside my door I hear he Cookoo’s calling.