A year of cooking my retinas on the white glare of my laptop and a never-ending rotation of office-work had turned my life into a dried and packaged version of itself. It was now August and the lack of movement made my feet itch. My bank account didn’t support a trip, but fuck it—it was jump now or lose my opportunity to the encroaching dread of winter in the mid-west.
It is the nature of the brain to generate and preserve neural pathways when we learn, or to deteriorate based on a lack of mental exercise. But this use-it-or-lose-it function of the brain is also true of our spirit—if you don’t take it out for a walk every once and a while, you may find yourself having increasing urges to play shuffleboard, migrate to Fort Lauderdale and spend your Saturday evenings at the bingo-hall. Terrified by the thought of Werther’s hard-candy and musky-cologne, I immediately hopped online to search for rental cars.