Locals ask me, “Why did you move heeere?” with a questioning sneer. It’s simple really: small town living, even with its different political/religious views, over-abundance of Bud Light, lack of “things to do”, is more palatable at this point in my life than ever before.
I love my little trailer. Sure, it’s a mess, but it’s our mess to change, clean up and fix up.
I love that I can drive to work in 10 minutes or less. I actually love that my in-laws are 20 minutes away, more because it makes my wife very happy to be close to her mom.
Most of all I love that it is quiet. Before I moved we heard gunshots daily, sirens all the time, noisy neighbors, bratty neighborhood kids screaming at all hours, general noise. I’m sitting on my porch and all I really hear is the wind in the trees and the occasional traffic on the highway.
Did I mention trails? Yeah, that too, literally right around the corner.
Some nice double-track in the pines.
Where the pavement ends.
Yeah, I’m a happy camper right now. Hopefully in 6 months I’ll still be signing this tune!
Truly, I’m not dead. I just feel dead.
In the week I moved I climbed thousands of stairs. Never, ever, living in a three story building again.
It took 2 days, well, actually 3 if you count the two hour jaunt the first day, to travel 1500 miles. The wife and I, along with our two cats in the front of a 24 foot Budget truck filled to the brim towing a vehicle.
Now comes the fun adventure of homeownership with all the little things. And finding a job. Yeah, still need work, but things are looking up.
Things are a’changing…and I couldn’t be happier!
The thing about moving is finding all the stuff you know you once had but had seemingly lost at some point. Case in point, found a box of old NES cartridges buried in a box deep in the basement. Next to them was a box full of old nursing school books… why I kept them I have no idea, but there they were in their spine-busting weight.
On top of those things I’ve been rewinding my personal mixtape thru Spotify, revisiting songs from years ago, finding new ones and having a good time. One tangent led me to an old favorite, Less Than Jake, I can remember spending hours with them as the soundtrack of my life back in the late 90’s, reading some of the books I found in another box, like The Master and Margarita and a collection of Lord Byron’s writings (I was a humanities major the first time through). Heady stuff.
Thanks to YouTube I can pseudo-relive seeing them live. The venue is very similar to where I saw them twice. Small, dark, dingy, hot and sweaty. They put on a crazy, zany goofball show, and I had a blast. Seeing them again makes me smile.
It’s odd, I figured this unemployment thing would be like a vacation. Sit back, relax, catch up on things left unread, do some housework while slowly getting things for the imminent move together. I figured I would not miss working, prepping for work or the actual time spent going to work.
Yeah. Wrong on all counts.
Admittedly I’ve done a fair bit of relaxing. There have been many days of sitting around in sweats like some somewhat thinner suburban version of Jabba the Hut, dropping whatever snacks were within reach into my maw, ordering minions to do things (at least in my head). I’ve spent some quality time on Twitter, on some blogs, scoping out new places to ride when we move, but have done little of anything constructive. The place looks pretty much exactly like it did the week I stopped working. Packing? Psshh. Attacking the list of things I need to accomplish for the week? Did (the easy) 50%.
Never thought I would say it, but the hardest thing is not going to work. I see the #nocshift tag come up on Twitter for all those headed to slay the dragon of work and while I may be there in spirit, I’m really just an impostor now. I wish them luck and go back to doing nothing of consequence. But it’s the odd things that seem to mean the most to me. Not buying food specifically for work. Not staying up ’til all hours to readjust my internal clock to stay up for the next three nights. Not having the in-person interaction with my friends as we strive towards a common goal. It has made me slightly off-balance and I don’t like it. Coming from a long line of Scandinavian hard working folk, the need to work is etched indelibly into my DNA. Go too long without and I become insufferable to be around, pacing like a wild animal trapped in an enclosure but unable to do anything.
Worst though it has allowed my fear of not getting work even more real. It has allowed that nagging voice, the one that I used to continually tell to “shut the fuck up!” a little more volume. That little voice has been very, very talkative of late. Doubt, the killer of initiative, has been working overtime.
All this after only a week. I’m going to be a psychic wreck by the time I get to Arizona. And I will have probably driven my wife insane.
At least though, things are slowly coming together. It appears we have a place to call home lined up. There seems to be some jobs in the area that I could pursue. I just have to realize that things will take some time. This isn’t going to happen overnight, no matter how hard I want it to. The last time I was unemployed was so painful, more for factors beyond not having a job/income, that issues I thought I had dealt with long ago are bleeding into the current discussion which makes this more stressful. I have to remember that this is not like last time. I have experience. I have money coming in. I’m not running from death, disappointment and despair. Instead I’m running to something new, exciting and different. And you’e all along for the ride!
Still reeling from my momentous decision of last week, I’ve sunk hours and hours into YouTube, Twitter, Batman Arkham City and MW3 trying to forget, all the while realizing that shit just got very real. I’m safe in the knowledge that it is the right thing, but the prospect of no longer having a steady paycheck freaks me out. These got me back on track though…
Went out on the bike the other day, just a map, some snacks and water. Too much stress lately, too much bullshit to deal with, too much loss to work on coming to grips with, all lost beneath the sound of rubber on the road and the roaring quiet, and drowned out by the amazing scenery surrounding me. I lost 6 hours that day, but gained a good bit of me back.
Perusing my stats last night before heading to work I realized something: I had broken the 100,000 visits mark someday Friday. I know, big deal. Yeah, there are blogs that do that in a day or even an hour, but they aren’t mine. This little creation that started as a place to vent, educate and regale keeps growing. And all thanks to you folks, my loyal readers, or at least the one that has visited 100,000 times.