You know how it is: you start a new job with all this breathless excitement and anxiety-ridden exuberance and you think it’s going to change your life.
Well, it did change my life: I was certain when the Grand Master of the Lodge informed me that I would be the Illuminati’s newest recruit that I would be able to learn all I needed to know about the Gregorian Calendar. But that myriad geocentric dating system was too baffling for me to come to terms with and the black cabal was less than impressed that I kept confusing Ra with Aunbis. This all added up to me getting the boot in 2009, and since then I’ve felt a little empty.
Road trips are like a cult TV show. You hear about it from one of your friends, and it doesn’t sound like anything you’d be interested in: you might even wish they’d shut up about it. You might think, based on what you know about road trips, that there’s a group of people that can’t stand where they are and need to get the hell out of Dodge as soon and as often as they can.
I don’t think that’s it. This seems more likely to be the case of the frequent traveler who relies on airplanes to take them to far off destinations or the obsessed traveler who needs to find themselves by backpacking through [insert continent here].