Dat Cabin Lyfe

I’m none too outdoorsy m’self, but I gotta say, lately the cabin life has been calling my name. I keep finding myself daydreaming about graduating college, finding an old cabin somewhere and fixing it up one quiet, tree surrounded, wanderlusty moment at a time. I mean, can you just imagine the Instagrams?! If I’m really going to be honest here, this idea has gone a little bit past daydreaming and into some really embarrassing google searches of stuff like ‘Cool Maine cabin rentals’ or ‘Underrated American cities with lots of under-appreciated character’ or ‘Cabins for rent by owner, cheap’ or ‘What am I doing with my life?’
Seriously– can’t you totally picture me living in Maine, though? Living on crab bisque and a prayer? I’d drive something like a Wagoneer and I’d be a key player in the local book club thanks to my signature artichoke dip that I’d bring to all of the meetings. Maybe I’d even fall in love with a lobsterman.
As glorious as creaky, hard-wood floors, single paned window views of my very own meadow, and the image of me living off the land and not having to shave my legs/armpits/beard for months sounds right now, one must ask oneself: Are these constructive and creative plans for the future or would My-Side-of-the-Mountain-ing myself just be running away from real life?

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