At 6 pm last Sunday night, after a week or so of meticulous planning, I set sail for Frisco in my Tacoma, towing behind me the smallest of my campers, a handmade teardrop so tiny that it is essentially a mattress on wheels, and so lightweight that I am prone to mistaking it for a rude tailgater when I catch a glimpse of it in my rear view mirror. Despite its diminutive size and feather weight, I still find that lugging it behind my truck prompts intense anxiety as my ever busy mind thinks of all the catastrophes potentially awaiting us. Maybe I’ll get a flat. Maybe the camper will jump the hitch if I hit a bump and cause a major accident. Maybe maybe maybe.
Joy Eclipsing Panic
Joy Eclipsing Panic
Joy Eclipsing Panic
At 6 pm last Sunday night, after a week or so of meticulous planning, I set sail for Frisco in my Tacoma, towing behind me the smallest of my campers, a handmade teardrop so tiny that it is essentially a mattress on wheels, and so lightweight that I am prone to mistaking it for a rude tailgater when I catch a glimpse of it in my rear view mirror. Despite its diminutive size and feather weight, I still find that lugging it behind my truck prompts intense anxiety as my ever busy mind thinks of all the catastrophes potentially awaiting us. Maybe I’ll get a flat. Maybe the camper will jump the hitch if I hit a bump and cause a major accident. Maybe maybe maybe.