It’s been a long winter, and I haven’t been getting out much. That’s okay. I’m perfectly content to be insane on the internet for you. It’s safer than being insane in public. At least, it’s less likely to end up with me in a tight new coat, bouncing off of the walls made entirely out of soft expandy foams. Actually, now that I’m considering it, I might need to spend more time being crazy in public because that sounds really fun.

Note to Self: Invest in trampoline room with first million dollars. Thank yourself every day of your life.

…oh, make sure to do the ceiling, too.

The longer I spend cooped up in one place the slower and more lethargic I become. My brain starts to slow down and get funkified. Simple tasks like tying my shoes begins to become an issue. If I don’t break the cycle, I can quickly become a giant pile of man-sponge, absorbing TV in through my face holes and expunging some sort of vile doom gasses through my… opposite of face holes.

I don’t like to believe that it has anything to do with the sun. I am a vowed enemy of the sun. I’m probably wrong about that, though. I’ve read plenty of medical research that says cave-dwelling primates like myself suffer from a severe vitamin D deficiency and that can lead to depression and worse problems. I hate to think that I need to get a sunburn to be happy, but there is some history in my life proving that too me, I guess.

So this past weekend, I took off and fled all over the Midwest, searching desperately for a safe, dry, warm place that wasn’t filled with snow and windowless walls. I didn’t find what I was looking for, but I did find something pretty valuable. I learned that I could easily drive for twelve hours without really getting tired of driving. I learned that deep in Southern Missouri and Northern Arkansas, the stones cut from the Ozark Mountains are a brilliant and vivid orange. I learned that getting away from home for two days let me get more writing done than an entire week of strapping myself to the computer. I can’t say that the writing itself was any better than any other writing I’ve done, but the quantity was significantly higher.

I don’t know what the next couple of months are going to hold for me. I’m wandering through my life a bit lost and very, very confused. I’ve always had this straight arrow plan:

  1.  Get a Job
  2. Find a Stable Place to Live
  3.  Try not to eat too poorly
  4. Do the same thing every day until you lose all sense of self and time
  5. Nervous Breakdown
  6. Repeat

Every 3-4 years I add, “Horrible failed relationship.”

This time, during the death-throes of Step 4, I decided to change step 5 into “Cash out life savings and become a bum for a while.”

So far, I’m not sure that has been a good decision, but this weekend has really opened my eyes to a lot of things. Primarily, living in a basement apartment might very well be killing me. Actually, I think stable living anywhere is killing me. I might need to become a nomad. I did really like just driving around and looking at stuff until I absolutely needed to stop staring at roads for the night. I liked sliding into a hotel room, typing away on the tiny bluetooth keyboard that connects to my tablet, crashing into a big empty bed I didn’t have to make, and sleeping until the sun came up the next morning. I have to admit, waffles, scrambled eggs, sausage and apple juice for breakfast might have had a part in that, too.

I’ve been home for one day now. I enjoy my home. I enjoy the comforts of home. I enjoy my Roomlords and their kids (most of the time.) I like my TV and my computer. I like it here.

But, a very, very big part of me is already screaming to leave again.

I’ve always had itchy feet. A few years in once place has always felt like too much.

Now, I’m not sure my feet are ever going to stop itching.

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