Hauling stuff

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I feel so happy with this new man, my Far-Away-Boy. It’s like I dreamed up the perfect man and there he is.  He’s real, though, because he can also be, well, not perfect and a bit annoying. That is to say that he has a few themes that repeat, societal complaints and whatnot, and there’s not a lot to be done about them unless you want to become an activist.  I’m glad that he has those, because otherwise I would not think he was real at all.  I’m glad he’s not perfect.  I am soooooo not perfect.  But otherwise I appreciate his sense of humor, his values, his intelligence, his kindness. His love for me.

At the moment I am also a bit confounded over my new life, where I live in one spot, commute a long distance to where I work, and commute an even longer distance to where the man I love lives. I’m getting used to it, but it requires a lot of organization, which requires a lot of attention.

Some of that I can throw money at, though, and make it easier.  Instead of bringing all my ski and climbing gear to FAB’s house, I can buy two lots and just come with clean clothes.  I need to save up money a bit to do that, but in the long run it will be a thing to do. Next year maybe.

I can also calm down my life with the commute.  There’s a woman I know who will have a room to rent in the town where I work, and it could be more like a roommate thing than the room I squat at the moment.  In that case, I would rent part of my apartment (there’s a studio and a one bedroom with a door between them.  I can lock the door and rent the studio.)  Then I could spend my weekends in the mountains, and my week in town, seeing friends, working closer to home and so forth. That will likely be the thing to do next year, because I can’t imagine my hours will permit me to do the back and forth thing again. I got lucky once, but it’s not likely to happen again.

I just need to have confidence in myself, in my choices, and go with the flow.  Hard to do in a lot of ways since I always want to know how, why, when but it will work out.  It is spring, and I feel so hopeful that it will all work out.  I will find a life that is less exhausting, and less about lugging things with me on the train.

I remember working a catering event in the US, long before I left.  It was the first night for new students in an engineering school, and the school hosted a get-to-know you dinner.  There was a table that was full of Europeans, drinking wine and very sophisticated.  I loved listening to them talk.  I admired them and wanted to be like them.

I also remember a man from Idaho.  He was funny and relaxed sat at a table full of other Americans, talking about his pick-up truck.  “And that’s what we do,” he said, “we haul stuff. On the weekend, after work, during work.  That’s what life is about out there. Hauling stuff.”

I have brought Idaho to Europe, but instead of piling it into a pick-up truck, I have it all on my back or in rolling suitcases. That’s what my life is about: hauling stuff.


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