Gray is my least favorite color, if you can even call it a color. Stuck between black and white, it doesn't know what it is or what it wants to be. It's a shade of indecision, a state of being non-descript, blending in so as not to be noticed. It's an in-between. I drove into gray country yesterday. God, how depressing. Gray skies hanging over grayish hills, dead grass and not much else.
I kept driving, hoping to find something at least somewhat interesting but the grayness of the day just sucked the life out of everything.
I'm glad I did make the drive however. I've considered moving out of my little apartment to try and find something cheaper and I've seen many ads for places in Lompoc and Santa Maria, and I've wondered just how far each is. I passed Lompoc yesterday and drove to Santa Maria and now know I will never live there if I can help it! Not only is it too far, it was depressing.
In the middle of nowhere, the first exit for Santa Maria is the Crossroads shopping plaza-cookie cutter big-box shopping. I stopped for lunch and the overall feeling was oppressive, the feeling of a depressed town. Maybe it was just because of the weather but I didn't really care. I didn't have my map with me so I decided to just head back home after this.
Arriving back at my apartment, I found my photo gear that I had shipped from Florida had arrived. Today, I'm heading south, towards Ventura, along one of my favorite drives.