Cubicle Mallets

My job at the USPS entails sitting in a cubicle and writing necessary entries for a knowledge base. That's a central bank of information to help folks solve particular thorny problems.
During the day I sit alone in a long row of cubicles, but occasionally I stand up to stretch, or gaze out a window a half-building away. It could be worse: I might be in the catacombs, with no window or anything that even remotely resembles sunlight for eight hours a day.
When I stand up from my cube to stretch, it probably appears to an onlooker like that arcade game where the gopher pops its head up out of a hole in the ground...and you hit it with a mallet. Gazing out across the sea of cubes, I see other heads pop up now and then as coworkers commune with each other.
Then to read about all those souls who've hung up the cube life and hang their cowboy boots from the rearview mirror of an RV? It purely breaks my heart with envy.
My time will come, however. My body will be free of this "inside the box" lifestyle.
Then I'll get back on the road, as free as I was 30+ years ago, researching the first article I ever sold: "How to hitchhike."
I'm a little grayer, but the wanderlust is just as strong. Only this time, I'll take my golf clubs with me.
Oh, if you have the same urge, read "Blue Highways" by William Least Heat Moon, for the story of how a man travels the quiet backroads of America in search of himself, in an old Ford van.