So I was alllllllll ready to write y’all this great post about Memphis and Beale Street and the ridiculousness that has taken over this city from my youth and roadtripping with my absurd mother and how, as soon as we crossed over the Georgia/Alabama state line, I lost the ability to use adverbs correctly and about the Rhett Butler action figure I met at the Flea Mall & Antique Market in Moody, Alabama, and our plans to eat barbecue at every meal since Georgia wouldn’t know good barbecue if it slammed the door in its face and Walking in Memphis while listening to “Walking in Memphis,” which is just so meta I can’t stand it, and stressing about becoming a society-contributing adult again and so much more.

But then.

I filled myself up with fresh biscuits and hot coffee and the siren call of the hotel bed waved itself right over me and oohhhhhheeee, I cain’t help maself.

See y’all later.

Maybe.

If you’re lucky.