If my theory that life was existentialism with a laugh track was still an untested suspicion in August 2019, the remaining weeks of what would be my last lap as a USFS seasonal, and especially the months and years since that summer, did little to disprove it. For starters, before my season even ended, one Maeve Tully—the Jefferson County therapist and sometime astrologer I knew simply by her last name—was found broken down near the California-Nevada stateline by way of Death Valley.