We are staying in a Motel Six masquerading as a Hampton Inn. All right, perhaps I am being a bitch. The room is actually fine. There is a Hampton signature lap desk that I have come to know and love. It is available for purchase by calling 1-888-224-7730. I think that means you will be charged if it shows up missing. We have free wi-fi. But it still looks like a souped up Motel Six. The doors open to the parking lot.
The trip so far was uneventful which is good. John drove. I slept. When I was awake I was knitting. I didn't sleep at all last night so the car seemed like my best option. This is why I have my special car pillow to prevent my neck from lolling out of control and giving myself whiplash.
Atlanta is fucked traffic-wise. People are nuts, driving like they are crazed which always complicates things. Especially some fool in a white Lexus. He gave us the finger. John waved. We finally got through Atlanta rush hour, which lasts until past 7 pm apparently. We are in Macon.
Japan Spa and Hong Kong Spa are nearby. Whatever that means. I don't know if this is code for something else, like a massage that isn't really a massage, winkwink. John didn't know either but there were billboards. Also several billboards to "Donate your Boat. Once again, I don't know what they meant, like donate your boat meaning a huge car. Or donate your boat meaning a money sucking flotation device. I am not sure. Honestly I never thought charitable organizations were that interested in boating. But we're in the South now so who knows?