It's eight months away,
maybe seven,
maybe nine.
It's far enough away to plan it all out.
Plenty of time to get ready.
I'm not scared. Me? No way.
You can do this.
Of course I can. This is gonna be awesome.
...but what if something happens to Pilot?
Nothing's gonna happen to Pilot.
Well what if something happens to me? What will become of Pilot if my body is ravaged by rogue bears and wild mountain men while changing a flat on the side of the Cassiar Highway?
Jeeeezus, calm down. You want to do this, remember? You've wanted to do this since you were seventeen. That's a long time. Decades.
It's a stupid idea and you don't know what you're talking about and stop dropping hints about my age.
I hate nature.
I hate adventure.
I hate hiking.
I hate camping.
I hate solitude.
I hate road trips and I've never wanted to drive to Alaska and whoever told you I did was a liar.
Why would I want to spend a month on the road doing any of these things??
Booooooooooooooooriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.
You live for this shit and you know it.
Lies!
I just want to live in a box for the rest of my life eating cheezits and watching prime and pretending I'm safe.
All that driving would just give me hemorrhoids, anyway.
This is my entry for the #monomad challenge, held daily in the Black and White Community.
Give it a try.
It's also a 
P.S. If you've ever driven to Alaska and have recommendations of neat places to stop, camp, etc., please drop me a comment. 馃檪
instagram: @se_pdx_crows
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