On Sunday, my car broke. Luckily I was just in my apartment complex’s parking lot when it decided to die and subsequently refused to start. I pushed it back to its spot and tried unsuccessfully to fix it.

I was without a car. I was carless. And I have learned something about carlessness. It’s a treat.

I once heard a quote that went something like this: being sick is a luxury. I get to walk places. While everyone else just drives to the supermarket, I get to go on an adventure, gather as much supplies as I can hold, and carry it all back to my man cave.

My self-imposed de-evolution of mobility is something I can relish at this point in my life. I have no kids to carry. My work is a mile away. The store is half that distance. I have two bikes. I have friends to bring me places. I have the luxury to be carless.