If all goes according to the new and improved/revised/last chance/armegeddon avoidance/no alternatives left... plan, then roughly 27 minutes from now, a strange man(or woman) with coffee on their breath and the faint smell of cigarettes lingering on to their puffy, salmon colored, winter vest... will, with sense of purpose, dignity, and fulfillment... strike down on their turn signal and pull out of a dimly lit parking lot in northern virginia with my windows on a flatbed truck. I can see it so clearly.
I can almost taste it.