I pee in a Tupperware because it’s too wet to step outside.
I eat dark sea salt chocolate for breakfast because I don’t want to set up my alcohol stove in the mud.
I hide in my shell and post photos on Instagram because I can’t hula hoop.
It’s too wet outside.
The edges of the shell leak.
The basket that holds my toothbrush, toothpaste, headlamp and crystals is wet.
The corner of my journal leaned against the window is wet.
My shoes tucked against the tailgate are wet.
A corner of my mattress is wet – Tupperware accident.
Everything else is dry.
It’ll be really slick getting out of here this morning, but I know the truck doesn’t mind.
The rain plays a drum solo on my shell and nourishes the creatures of desert, and I can’t help but love it, in spite of all the inconveniences.