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Erik Austin
May 18
1 min read

Woke up this morning at Joe’s mom’s house thinking, Okay. Today’s the day. Gas up, hit the road, be a responsible adult and make it back to San Diego at a reasonable hour. Cue laugh track.

Because just as I was about to roll out, Sheila called. She was in SLO—of course—and it had been a while, so naturally, I made a quick (ha) detour to catch up. She filled me in on her trip to see Bells graduate and... yikes. Graduation drama like only our crew can deliver. Let’s just say I was equal parts horrified and entertained.

One thing led to another (as it does), and suddenly we were catching up in Pismo like it was a Tuesday in 2012. The beach was right there, the salt air was doing its thing, and honestly? It felt right. Sometimes the detour is the plan.

Finally hit the road—for real—at 5 PM. Not ideal, not efficient, definitely not what Waze would recommend, but my soul felt a little fuller. And sometimes, that’s more important than getting home on time.

San Diego, I’m coming—fashionably late, slightly sun-kissed, and with way more emotional luggage than I started with.