I am this spoon
Ok, so this isn't a picture of a wilderness adventure in Canada. It's a picture of a mangled spoon on the side of the road in England. I am this spoon. I've been living in England for nearly 2 years and I'm ready to go home. I grew up on the great Lake Ontario, where I spent my summers splashing in it's still-too-cold, pre-E.Coli, greenish-brown waters. My youth was spent strolling asthmatically along the paths between the trees and through the hills of Gatineau Park... Ok, so not all of my youth, but like, at least 6 times a year. But, the times I wasn't there, I was releasing my Gen.Y-Millennial-identity-guilt-stress at Petrie (Dish) Island along the Ottawa (Sewage) River. You're probably thinking, "Does this person even like Canada...or being outside?" YES! I LOVE CANADA and outside! And I just wanna go back to the land that made me into the straight-shooting, lovable, joke machine that I am today. So for coherence sake, I'm going back to the spoon metaphor now. I feel like I've been run over by all the emotional, psychological, and physiological cars in England. Look at this spoon, and know that I *am* this spoon. The only way I can be reshaped and put back into working order, is for me to go back to the fresh air and questionable waters of Ontario. Help me reshape the spoon. Or like, vote for one of those other people who has a story about adventuring in the wilds of Canada. They probs deserve it more and their stories are legit moving. Kthanksbye! HI MOM!