She could claim it wasn’t planned. Even if she couldn’t admit it to herself, she had mapped out her escape her entire adult life.
Every shopping trip, every grocery run, she asked for $10 or $20 cash back. Over the years she saved a substantial amount. “Squirrel money” her grandad called it. It was finally enough.
A check of her browser history later showed searches for real estate in obscure places. Small towns across America where no one would imagine wanting to live, but she did. Away from people, away from memories, away from everything.
She left with no regrets.
Thin spiral notebook 
I can so relate to this. Some days just taking off would be incredible.
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My mom used to call that “mad money.” I think of this sort of thing every time I hear Tom Petty sing, “American Girl.” Perhaps fave song of all time.
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