and then I think I went a little stir-crazy. (my) office jobs have (had) this amazing quality wherein the monotony (and comfort of a steady paycheck) is (was) unrelenting. so Rob and I drove to Vancouver because we'd never seen Canada before. then he flew home...and I was alone. 1,300 miles from my bed (couch) and no reason to go back. so I stayed and I hiked and I swam and I learned how to take pictures of myself because I know my grandpa doesn't care what scenery he's looking at if I'm not in it. if I saw a mountain or a body of water I drove towards it. I slept in my car on residential streets, brushed my teeth in Walmart bathrooms, and scrubbed off dirt in rivers and lakes. I chased the hell out of some waterfalls. vagrant game 💯. stayed up all night to shoot pictures of stars and then drove down windy mountain passes wondering if I'd make it or if I'd die on the mountain and they'd name a bench after me. I'd say I'm more of a mahogany than a spruce.
I think loneliness and isolation is generally frowned upon, but I was frightened by how much I enjoyed not having interpersonal experiences. what if I forgot how to speak or lost all ability to read social cues? I'd never know who the weirdo at the party is because it'd always be me! (just like high school😏) my thoughts got odder and darker as my beard fused to my hair, so 4,052 miles later, I came back. (this is crater lake. I hiked an hour down the caldera to get here, set the tripod, and then tried to give myself hypothermia)