The morning has come and I've called in a full day's sick leave (by virtue of the fact that it hurts when I put weight on my right leg now).
My roommates are trying on suits and I am listening to Dar Williams and musing about how nice it is to be on the road, at least for a moment, again.
The gypsy in me turns over fitfully in his sleep. The slumber will hold for a year or more yet, but I can already foresee that when he awakes, I will have little choice but to pull up stakes and move on.
And where then will I go?
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