Today, I'm waiting for something dramatic to happen while I sit outside and soak up the afternoon sun.

Perhaps a meteor the size of a pumpkin will fall from the sky and create a crater so large in the park across the street the city will decide to make it into a skate park because it would more cost effective than restoring it.

Or, maybe the rhinoceros the neighbor three doors down is secretly keeping as a pet will break loose, barrel through the fence, stop for a second to munch on some basil, and continue busting through fences towards the freeway. Of course, I have no idea if the neighbor actually has a rhinoceros. For all I know, he may only own a wildebeest.

Or, perhaps I'll hear the doorbell and a thud by the front door. When I go to answer it, I'll see a generic delivery van speeding off. I'll look at my feet and see a silver briefcase. A tag with my name on it will be tied to the handle. After bringing it inside (gosh, my hypothetical self is trusting), I'll open it and discover a GPS unit, $50,000 in cash, car keys, and an envelope containing a letter informing me I'm now in a national parks version of the Amazing Race. (Not officially sponsored by the NPS, mind you. Do you think they could actually afford to give people that type of schwag for a competition?). The instructions contained in the envelope will tell me I have thirty minutes to find a partner, inform my friends, family, and employer that I'll be gone for what could be months, and pack. If I don't succeed in this first challenge, the money, GPS unit, and car will self-destruct, but I'll be able to keep the briefcase as a token of their appreciation. Twenty-nine minutes later, M and I will be on the road, heading towards our first destination: Point Reyes National Seashore. (Boy, our hypothetical counterparts are not only bigger risk takers than we are, but they're also faster packers.)

Hold on a second, I think I just heard the doorbell and a thud by the front door. I swear the whole house shook. (This is what happens when you have a tiny house). I'll be right back.

[Timekeeper note: A minute passes.]

I'm back. The good news is I saw a delivery van driving away when I opened the door. The bad news is that there wasn't a silver briefcase, only a brown box for M -- from the Gap. Not very dramatic at all. Oh well, maybe tomorrow.