(Written on Sunday, May 27)
Today I told my boss that I am quitting a month earlier than I had previously expected to leave. (In July I go fishing in Alaska for a month.) Now I am quitting after Tuesday. I am going to hunt morel mushrooms. And this time (for those of you who know me), I know where they are.

As of Wednesday I will be leaving my perfectly good (if not terribly lucrative) carpentry job for the chance to wander around in the woods in hopes of finding enough morels to pay off the rather substantial amount of work I recently had done on my car.

To be honest, the money is almost incidental. I would like to be able to pay off my credit card as soon as possible, yes. But more importantly, I want to get the hell away from all of you. Yes, you, the one minding your own business. I hate you.

But I shouldn’t, and if I wasn’t so caught up in the city life, I would not. As an outsider in the city, everyone is interesting, and anything can be redeemed. I can watch the masses go by and not want to light the sidewalk on fire. But I can’t live in it and enjoy it at the same time. So instead I’m going to go out in the woods and live in a tent, because after six months in the city I would rather eat oatmeal I made over a fire that I built by rubbing sticks together than drive through evening traffic one more goddamned time so I can eat a meal, do my laundry, read a book, go to bed, and pretend that I’m enjoying my life.

You can all enjoy your commutes. And learn to fucking merge.

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