My mind was sluggish and barely operable. My lips were cracked and my mouth was basically a desert it was so dry. I hadn't slept in over forty hours. In fact, the only thing keeping me awake was a disgusting redbull, coffee, and 5 hour energy concoction. My bloodshot eyes stung from my lack of sleep and overall physical condition. I looked, and felt, like a disheveled sack of rat guts. My clothing was like the face of a bloodhound, my hair appeared as if I'd picked a fight with a raccoon, and I smelt like I had been on the road for two days straight.
With nothing but two minute restroom breaks and a quick stop at a fast food place twenty-eight hours ago, I had plenty of reasons to be sour. I was exhausted, starving, and ready to kill anyone who crossed my path. I hadn't driven all the way across the flipping country just for bragging rights. If anything, I had set a new record for doing it in the shortest amount of time possible...
But fear is a powerful thing. It can make people do some pretty crazy crap. And in my case, it made me drive over twenty-five hundred miles to get away from a bunch of dogs.