Since you left there's more room on my bed for me to throw my old things on and off. You don't mind (why would you mind?) that I've taken up your spot with photos (and postage and clothing and garbage) and filled up every box... after box... after box and threw them all out with bags of old bills that I've shredded so no one can rearrange my life. They can just have it on my lawn before all hell breaks loose. Making space for three guys and some gear for one month which might feel like a full year. I don't mind (why would I mind?) that I've put in my two weeks from a desk (and a chair and a computer to stare at) when I've got my whole life to plan around something lifeless like a full time job. I won't be pushing paper when there's miles to inspire me to rearrange my life. I can just have it on the road before all hell breaks loose.