noplace i wanna be

I'm looking at my 401(k) and a map of the United States spreads itself out in my head. The Americas unfurl and I scan the west coast, all the way down, wondering what's there. I look up too, thinking about backpacks and Alaska. I think about trains - sleeping while traveling is such a clever trick.


I think about driving my car straight north and I wonder how far we could go. My mechanic calls her bulletproof. I picture her abandoned on the side of the road, me with my thumb out, walking north into the Yukon.


I think about driving south and I think that's probably not a great idea. I reluctantly abandon, temporarily, the prospect of rain forests and ancient Mayan temples. Oh, monkeys. Oh, piranhas. Oh gang wars, murders and kidnappings.


I imagine the cutest little round camping trailer you ever saw. I picture my car pulling it. I think I'll have to go without a camping trailer.


I think about buses and planes and the cost of each ticket and how much money I would need to go how far, for how long.


I think about backpacks and hiking boots and just plain walking.


The office buzzes around me, swarms of activity flitting from one desk to another. Meetings, conference calls, voicemail, email. Work orders, purchase orders, clicking keyboards. I drift from conference calls to meetings, thinking about campfires and rain gear.


I think to myself, "What would I do if I had a terminal disease?" The answer comes instantly. Retire. Quit. Cash out - and do what? 


Go.


I don't have a terminal disease. I don't even have a goddamned stomach ache.


I have the worst fucking luck.