running water, electricity, heat, internet, a refrigerator, waking up in the same place every morning, a bed, hanging up my clothes in a closet, a medicine cabinet, leaving the shampoo in the bathtub after a shower, keys, neighbors, pillows, hand washing lingerie and hanging panties on the shower curtain rod. . . .
this past weekend i moved into an apartment with facebook friend william clark, pictured here on top of the piano i had had in storage. this morning, the bed was delivered. next week, a rug is coming. my ex maximilian says that i have been “officially without residence” for three months.
i am a very lucky homeless person: i have a credit card, i have means, i have a car, i have friends. the friends are the most important part of the equation. still, i have been tired. i have been scared. i have been weary of being on the road. it is good to have a place to call home and i promise to never take for granted the things i have been blessed with.
i have had a third dental surgery in less than as many weeks. the trouble indicator on my car says “low tire”. i spent yesterday filling a storage facility with all manner of furniture, boxes, musical instruments and paintings. only to discover that there’s three overflowing closets in the house that i’m just a little unsure about. my son broke up with his girlfriend and is considering making his way back home–just as home is being packed up and given over to a new owner.
what to do? what to do? what to do?
i don’t have an automatic thank you note generator like the presidents of the united states. but i do write a lot of thank you notes. i don’t send them all because some people who are so very good to me would probably get a little creeped out.
you might think that your day is something that happens to you. the boss man tells you what to do. your body parts either work or they don’t work. people do and say things that are sometimes funny, sometimes loving, sometimes utterly irrational.
but i think life is something we can create. and i guess i think of creation as including thank you’s. even if the only thing you can say thank you to is the sun for rising in the east, that’s at least one thing that takes you outside of the controlled box and into the pilot’s seat. sometimes i can’t think of anything except sun and coffee to be thankful for. that’s all right. but today i have a lot of things to be thankful for. including my dentist. and i will write him a thank you note. i might toss that thank you note–which will encompass nancy his receptionist and laura his assistant–but i will write it and remember them. i feel better already!
in 14 days, the presser home will become someone else’s home. i am happy for the young couple who have purchased this place. i am excited and just a titch worried about what happens next. but i took a bike ride on saturday. i ended up in phillo, illinois which claims as its village motto to be the “center of the universe”. i wonder if NASA knows about this. the center of the universe encompasses slightly under a square mile and has a population of 1,400. its streets are named for presidents and i respect a town that doesn’t forget millard p. fillmore.
some of the people i have met this year have talked about “safe” places and “safe” people. particularly the people with agoraphobia, post traumatic stress disorder or just general “damn this world is a lot more chaotic and strange than i think i can handle”. . . i think phillo taught me that the center of the universe, and the safest spot in the universe are always with me. . . . unless there are particular circumstances. . . .