I'm going camping!

I never would have even thought of it if I hadn't been so tired. A silly notion of propping up a tent under the stars and sleeping for an entire week would have not occured to me in lesser state of fatigue.

But the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like a great idea. If there is anything my mind and body need, it is rest. Real rest. At 36 years old, I am so mentally and physically exhausted every day it's shameful. While most men my age are still fighting for their youth, and making every effort to prove they are just as virile now, as they were at 25, I have resigned myself to shopping for a good old folks home*.

It's not a plan yet. It's just just a notion. But little by little, it's becoming an actual plan. And it's exciting. The thought of being all alone, out in the middle of nowhere. Just me, a tent, a sleeping bag, a ton of beef jerky, and a case of bottled water. No cellphones. No cars. No people for thousands (ok, five) miles.

Mark thinks it's a great idea. He speculates that he can get really rich writing a book about the dead camper he found after I expire. He has agreed to drop me off and come get me a week later. In his mind, he cannot lose. Either I will die and make him famous, or I will succeed and love it so much that I will keep going back, for longer and longer excursions, until I become a wild man out in nature, and he can write his book on that.

If you're an NN regular, check back more often. I'll be making a lot of updates, every time I make a move towards the trip, and every time I get smart and realise this would be the death of me, and cancel...then return to my normal state of psychosis and decide to do this.



*ok, maybe not that severe, but getting close!