I completely suck at pitching tents.
How can this be? I fear city-life has defeated me, made me so codependent on automation, I can't even fuckin' put two poles together no more… oh, if my past self could see my present now - he'd laugh, he'd cry, then he'll promptly come and give me a well-deserved kick in the balls.
Not as if I was doing anything here even that mind-blowingly complex either… come on, it was just a simple, easy tent, with even simpler and easier instructions.
Something has gone and done mental aptitude a disservice and caused my intelligence to regress back to like a two-year-old. Now here I am doubting all the other things I did prior to this hiccup…
Did I pick a good spot here, or was being near the bank of the lake not a good idea? We got two tents, actually, did I pick the bigger one of the two? I can't remember which was which - did I? Was this all just a dream? If I hit myself, would I wake up now and none of this will -