*Sigh*

A groan of tedium escapes me. The Road is calling my name already. Just six weeks back home and I'm already scratching my veins yearning for a fix. Wanderlust. A funny term we came up with (or at least proliferated) years back while roaming the nice quiet boundaries of the suburban golf course under the stars.
You stand up on the hill and gaze out picturing a pack of savage dogs bounding near, thrilling on the rush of adrenaline as your muddled mind perfectly conjures the feeling of the chase. But alas, the illusion is easy to break when you remember there's leftover pizza in the fridge just a few steps away from the TV.
Adventure in a neat little paper package.
I experienced a real adventure this summer, and there are so many reasons to jump out again and get dirty. A million little reasons to go, and only a handful keeping me back. Maybe some fear, maybe some loathing, but mostly i'm all caught up in this whole owing-money thing.
My thumbs itch, and my imagination soars, while my mouth yaks and spins, and the red ledger slowly ticks back up to zero with the sweat of my brow and the blister-juice of my hands.
Soon...

What I need is a good sidekick (or partner in crime) to complement my angle. Someone to argue with; someone who disagrees with me regularly.