Trading places, part 1

by Jon Sullivan - 2022-08-07 - Travels

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I'm in Montana. Sharon is in California. Life moves pretty fast. Right now it is moving too fast to stop and look around once in a while.

In the classic Ferris Bueller movie from my youth the protagonists seem to have packed a year's worth of shenanigans and adventures into one afternoon. I suppose if I had to do all this when I was 20 it might have been less stressful, since I could afford to be reckless and I was too naive to know how relentless "Real Life" can be with nasty consequences. Back then I could afford to interleave imprudent adventures with life changing decisions. But today... like literally this calendar day.... at 59, I'm stressing the fuck out as I see adult level shit rushing at me faster than I can deal with it.

Let's back up. What the hell am I even talking about?

So I'm currently babysitting my sister's house in Montana while she navigates some difficult family drama in California. And at the same time I'm trying to find a place to live in Oregon. All while scrambling to keep up on IRL work that would be stressful at the best of times. And having to captain it all from a cobbled together workstation on Sharon's dinner table and living out of my suitcase, which I packed over a week ago without thinking things through enough. Marilee is helping in Oregon, but she was already overbooked with her own adulting responsibilities.

It's madness. It's fucking madness. I am too old to be doing this Ferris Bueller style. But it's what I get for insisting on being a loner with few friends and no partner. The universe does not care, and apparently I never stopped being reckless, and the car is rushing towards the cliff.

Sort of. Well.... not even sort of. If I don't finalize a place to live in the next few weeks I just won't move as soon. I'll move later. Just staying in San Diego a few more weeks or months will not be any problem at all. Not really. Any crisis here is my own making. Just deciding to not be so impulsive and stubborn is always an option. In theory. But here I am. Clinging like a moron to impulsive and stubborn.

Moving on......

It doesn't help that Kalispell is not my friend. Kalispell is not helping. Most obviously in that it's waaaaay waaaaaaay waaaay outside my hobbit hole. And in my hobbit hole, while I'm not officially a minimalist, my life is pretty minimal. Because I have all the things I truly need dialed in and stripped down and...... minimal. And all of that dialed in shit is 2000 miles away. I've blogged about my beloved rice blend. I've eaten it almost every day for years. Surely most of my cells are made of it by now. It's not here. I was an idiot and didn't pack any. I can hear you saying, "Jon??? It's fucking rice. Go to the store. Even in Kalispell they sell rice." Well I've been to the store, and the rice here is shit, and Amazon won't deliver next day out in the wilderness, and my best try at replicating it is not happy-making. And it cascades from there. I've stripped my life of all the stuff I don't need and distilled what I do need for maximum Stoic efficiency. But that means I've stripped and distilled myself into a corner. No rice blend = no hobbit hole. Sure, I can hear you saying, "Bilbo managed to kill a fucking dragon without his hobbit hole, so stop being such a fragile little flower princess". Yeah? Well Bilbo WASN'T FUCKING REAL. And he was smart enough to bring his rice blend with him. And he had a frickin' Ring Of Power, so kiss my ass.

I digress......

The other obvious Kalispell problem is that it's militantly Old Testament, while I'm more about Jesus. Jon = Love your neighbor as yourself, forgive others who have wronged you, don't be hypocritical, don't judge others, it's not the rich and powerful - but the weak and poor - who are allowed to have grace. Kalispell = Go die in the gutter you atheist fuck, here's some Covid because masks are for communists, and liberal pussies don't get no rice blend.

I miss my beloved over priced gaming chair. It's gonna be a long week.

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