Impulsive impulsive impulsive I am. I caught a ride with Rachel and had her drop me off in Washington without a car, although I am in the mist of trying to get my insane medical bills dealt with, packing up my life, and trying to buy a ticket to Guinea for January because within the last week I have decided to do a West African dance trip. My mind is like a thousand wild birds held together in a pin flying around, bashing into each other, some breaking free and flying into the cloudy sky never to return.