Working outside with the mail, I felt close to the land, the weather, to my own material person. I wasn’t just a brain in a jar. I could scramble hills, dodge dogs, deliver the mail in the dark of night and the noonday sun. My body could do it all. Sometimes, looking out over the valley and eating a 7-Eleven sandwich, I would be struck with how fucking good it was, to be outside eating a sandwich. To be hungry, have something to eat, and then feel full. To be in the rain and have a really good set of raingear,
