The strange thing about adulthood is that I have had the urge to flee more once than I ever had when I was younger. At least once a week I fantasize about bailing on my bills, my house, and my career packing some clothes and the pets in the car and living like a nomad. As time passes I am slowly coming to realize that I don’t own anything. All the things own me. And I just need to break free from the suffocatingly stiffiling cage I have locked myself in. I can’t be alone in that.