In fact, sometimes you gotta get out of town. Even if it's just to the beach for the day—even if it's just to walk all clumsy through the deep sand with ocean-bred ions washing over you and the dog running far in the wildness of joy. The drive's only an hour, it's not like you went to Mexico or anything, but a short trip like this can be just the thing for telling at least one embarrassing story in the car (maybe about your freshman year in high school), and then eating a couple diagonally cut sandwiches in a parking lot near the beach trail—the food tasting resplendent because you're outside in the salty air. It's not like you conceived the fucking meaning of life, but you did get out of town. Do you know what I mean about this?
Also, maybe you'd have enough time to stop at the Tillamook Cheese Factory and watch people in hairnets and safety glasses chop colossal blocks of cheese down into the manageable 12oz hunks we see in the grocery. Frankly, the enormity of those primordial cheese blocks will be forever emblazoned in my memory. So. Much. Cheese. If a girl like myself had to measure my cheese intake for the year, would it amount to one of those?!!! And after seeing said measurement, would I ever eat a bite of extra sharp cheddar again?!!!