Loose Ends Everywhere
Going insane over here. It's hard to finish your job and move out of your apartment and turn your life upside down AGAIN all at once. I was writing a friend to explain why I hadn't replied to her rather important email and it sounded something like this:
I sorely underestimated how long the loose ends at work would take to tie up.. all those things I said I'd just do tomorrow? Tomorrow is suddenly TODAY. And how long it would take me to do all the address change/legal/important Moving Shit so that my crappy stupid bills (up yours, medical insurance, UP YOURS) and useless catalogs (have you seen my bank account balance? DO NOT TEMPT ME) and freelance paychecks and stuff get to me in the Gorge. And to pack up/prepare/store things like food, which I am too broke to toss or give away! What is that frozen lump in the recycled Nancy's yogurt tub in the freezer? I don't know either but I better thaw it and find out. Packing leftovers and miscellaneous food items into plastic to be stored in the freezer at E's place for when I pass through homeless in a week and am broke and need to NOT make one last sentimental stop to Burger West. There's something kind of sad in being so broke you are storing food in your friend's freezer for the next time you come into town. Also something smart, I guess. They're storing all my condiments, too, but they don't know it yet. That shit's expensive. Even tossing in the last of my Hamm's and Pelican for free.
It sounded like a really fun plan to be homeless for 2-3 weeks in Sept and bop around visiting people. Except it involves packing for the road (water, ipod, clothes, making sure car is shipshape), packing for a backpacking trip (gear!), packing for car camping (gear!), packing for no-laundry-for-at-least-a-week (underwear!), packing for freelance-projects-that-aren't-done-yet-but-need-doing (pens paper ruler eraser printouts of early drafts internet connection at coffeeshops wha?), packing camera and phone and laptop shit, packing things to go into storage at E's place until I really DO move... lining up a place to sleep every night or at least a tentative plan for a place to sleep and kinda sorta knowing where to camp if you really get stuck in a bind and having of course food and water just in case it's you out on some godforsaken patch of BLM dirt under the fierce blue desert sky. Because you kinda wanna do that, solo style, for a few days at least. One last round with the sagebrush and the wind. One last round of beers or jokes or jive or whatever with all your friends in town, in Boise, in the whole damn Interior West, who all happen to be male, how did that happen? Don't know. Call it a last tobacco-sunburn-callused-shaggy-crude-blustery-weird-whatever testosterone shot before you shift gears like whoa and move into a white cottage with two smiling super nice girls on the West side where the lawyers will not chew Cope and the boys at the coffee shop will have college degrees to go with their metaphysics and their skateboard scars. In theory.
Plus that Ack-I'm-Leaving urge to clear out the inbox and pay off the bills and clear out the pile of packages-to-be-mailed and books-to-be-finished and pictures-to-be-taken and one-last-bike-ride-with-the-scent-of-onions-in-the-air. Those onions.