Getting lost

I'm going to get lost for a day. I don't mean my normal lost. You know, the lost I was for half an hour earlier when I tried to download Yahoo Messenger. I mean the good kind of lost.
I don't get lost nearly enough. I'm on the road. On the track. Deadlines in my mind. That mental list I have that's three miles long. Call this person. E-mail that person. Type on manuscript(s). Check e-mail. Set-up interviews and reviews. Write blog. That's the business side of my day.
Then there's dishes, dinner, animals to feed, laundry, bed-making, cleaning, and whatnot. Whatnot being the four million things we do each day that need to be done.

I need to get lost. I need to take the road that ventures into the unknown. I think I'll take I-40 East for about an hour or so. Honestly, I haven't the faintest where that leads. I refuse to look at the map. I'll meander around town. See what's going on with the locals. Perhaps grab a bite to eat. Check out a flea market or garage sale. And I will breathe. I'm pretty sure I always breathe. Here I am, coherent (mostly) at my computer typing this. But I mean BREATHE. Not the shallow "I need to get my butt in gear and make dinner" breathing. The deep kind. The breath that fills your lungs and takes an eon to exhale.
I'll take the chickens, of course. They need to breathe, too. And we'll wander at will and take in the sunshine. I don't know where I'll end up, and honestly, it doesn't really matter. Just the fact that I'm lost will be satisfaction enough.
Grins*