"I am so lonely, but I know there is a plan. There must be. I can muscle through my life until the next move is clear. I miss you all so much. I am alone for most of the time. It's just me and the cats and dogs. Nobody comes up. Nobody stops by. It's not like it used to be -- so full of life. Perhaps I'll move down there with you. But not now. There is a plan, and I must follow it. I must follow it even though it's too quiet around here."
Once upon a time, I hired a boat captain to take me to an island in the South Pacific so that I could camp there over the weekend. I was prepared or so I thought. I had goggles and canned food. I had my snorkel and disposable camera. What I didn't have was a can opener that worked or bug spray: the lack of both the cause of my quick undoing. Soon enough, I took my sunburnt body to the shore, wadded into the clear blue water, and began swimming to the nearest passing boat, thinking all the while that riptides and sharks don't exist. It was the second time I was almost deported from Australia.
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