The exquisite itch

deviathan just called from the recent past. She arrived safely in the junction of the moment known as 3:49PM and the left coast town of San Françiçio. Having only just ordered their afternoon fruitloop mango margaritas there, it's supper time here in the now . . .

And I feel as if I must be suffering sympathetic jetlag-by-proxy. I'd do well to forget all this nonsense about time and get a little more west of here myself, even if only by an hour or so. . . 65 miles. Fuck it! Whichever comes firstwise and bestest.