Driving to the sawmill this morning our group of cars got stuck in the mud. The threat was posed that we may not be able to make it to the sawmill, especially if the road continued to degrade further along the road. I wished so bad that we weren’t able to make it to the sawmill, and especially that our cars got permanently stuck in the mud. This was not because I didn’t want to go to the sawmill, or that I didn’t thoroughly enjoy fabricating the tables, which I did. Rather, it was because I love breaking schedule. This is a way of getting involved in life, which I so often sought after. When the plan falls apart, one has to live exactly in the present, reacting only to what happens in the moment, because there is no plan for the future, there is no expectation or end to the tunnel. This is where the fun happens.