I mean, I don’t really have a reason to other than just missing home. And I’ll be there in exactly a week from now so there is no use in wasting thirty dollars in gas. I don’t know what’s going to happen, I wish things didn’t bother me as much as they do. I don’t know why it stands out so much in a certain situation and how I could care less in another. I don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the concept or the feeling that I’ve lost something. And the sad thing is, I’m my own worst enemy.