Day 66, Friday May 3, 2024: Webb City, Missouri to Fayetteville, Arkansas

Carnegie libraries visited: Carthage and Aurora, Missouri

Carthage Public Library

Aurora Public Library

I had driven an hour in the wrong direction before I realized that I had driven an hour in the wrong direction. Rather than driving to Carthage I had been driving to Cherrydale, a town I had visited yesterday. When Siri said “Welcome to Kansas” I should have realized my mistake but I had not checked the route and so I paid Siri no mind (take that, Siri). The thick clouds overhead concealed the sun, so my body was not aware I was driving back west. I only had time to stop in one library, and I didn’t have much time to write there. The librarians, Gail (glasses), Meredith (glasses), and Jill (finally, a librarian not wearing them. Did she wear contacts?) were quick and efficient at offering me resources about the library’s origin and history. I used my iPhone to take quick snaps of the articles I quickly scanned, and once again I was on my way. 

I was behind schedule by the time I had started. My alarm buzzed at the usual hour of 8, but as usual I had hit snooze, except that I had tapped Off and not Snooze. I didn’t arise until 9.15. I continue to puzzle at how I can sleep so much – with my deepest sleep coming around dawn – on this trip. Some credit/blame goes to the Lexapro I’m taking which, in addition to causing weight gain, dammit, is also a soporific. Only in recent years, even before I stopped drinking, or maybe because I was still drinking, have I sought a solid eight in the rack. Until then I believed that, while sleep is a necessity, I should get the minimum hours of sleep necessary for me to function effectively. Our culture values productivity, and I’m a cultural guy. Six hours was my magic number. If I routinely got less than that, I would tend to get sick. If I got more, time was wasted and, oh, if I’m able to get up early I can’t be a real alcoholic! But nearly 10 hours of sleep, like I got last night? It seems like a lot. I should trust my body more than a clock, however. I had an extra vigorous workout the previous day, so like a bear tired after a long season of salmon fishing, my hibernation was well earned. 

I’m listening to The Recovering: Intoxication and Its Aftermath by Leslie Jamison. I found this book in my search for memoirs of drunkenness and recovery. Hypothesis: these memoirs devote much more time on drunkenness than recovery because, honestly, the former is so much more dramatic than the latter. So let’s see how Jamison divides her time on these topics, by chapter title:

1. Wonder

2. Abandon

3. Blame

4. Lack

5. Shame

6. Surrender

7. Thirst

8. Return

9. Confession

10. Humbling

11. Chorus

12. Salvage

13. Reckoning

14. Homecoming

    
    

That hypothesis didn’t last long. Six chapters on drinking, eight on recovering from drinking. Or is this book an outlier? More research is needed.

I arrived at The Bungalows, my father’s assisted living home, at 4.30, in time for me to spend thirty minutes with him before his dinner and my (Zoom) therapy session. Thus far, I've visited 134 Carnegie libraries.