Damn Portages...

Last night, driving home from the big(ger) city, and hour away from home:

(passing a sign that says "portage")

me: haha- porage.

AJ: por... age.

(silence)

me: You know, I'm really glad they don't have car portages on the highway. Like where you had to carry your car over a hill or something. That would kind of suck, wouldn't it?

AJ: (after a moment or two) ... you took your pills, right?

me: yes... I should just keep those thoughts in my head, shouldn't I?

AJ: No, it's just that they're so completely random.

me: No, they're not. They only SEEM random because I don't express every thought that leads from one thing I say to the next. My train of thought's not jumping tracks- you're just not following it, and it's not going to the station you expect it to.

AJ: ...

me: ...

AJ: OK, then.


about 20 minutes later:

AJ: This road is so awful- it's no wonder people complain about it. Of course, if they actually DID fix it, people would complain about the slow traffic, too.

me: Maybe they'd have to portage around the section that's being repaired.

AJ: ...

me: Or... well, maybe if people knew that it was either slow traffic or the car-portage, they'd be thankful they can drive there at all.

AJ: You're a loser. But I love you.

me: I know.