He was facing another bad day at work. A day full of problems, endless problems. Way too much to do, not enough time to do it in. He was a victim of his own success that way.
Not that he ever thought this would occur. He'd never wanted a "career" the way other people do. He just wanted a job that let him go outdoors a lot. The first ideas didn't pan out, and the career was the one left. He pursued it.
He was good at it, people said.
By now, he didn't care. He wanted away. He told his wife, his close friends, he sent the signals. "Just hold on" they'd say. You are just stressed right now.
The big event was the following week. As he approached it, he knew that he was becoming more and more unstable. He was scaring himself. "Why doesn't God just take me now" was both his thought and his plea.
Then it occurred to him.
He came home early, even though he didn't really have the time to spare . . .if he was going forward with the big event.
But he wasn't.
He hadn't said anything. He loaded his truck with what he needed. . . and drove off. He didn't take a cell phone, and he took out enough cash to get rolling.
He drove to Alaska.
He sold the truck, took the cash, hiked out to the woods, and built a small one room cabin.
And there he was. Alone, in the wilderness, with his thoughts. Lonely?
Not at all.
And then his wife came upstairs and he mentioned fleeing to Alaska. The suggestion was not well receivd.
And off to work he went.
