No, I haven't fell off the edge of the earth, but I can see it from where I'm standing right now. Thanks to all of you who cared to ask after my whereabouts.
Five months after the grand excitement of returning home and taking a challenging job, it is still a patchwork life waiting for that one phone call that will put everything into place, a daily improvisation.
We had a cruel fire drill of being told an offer was coming on the house only to have the people disappear with all dreams and plans they had inflated.
I just turned in my fifth rent check for a tiny room that was supposed to provide simple shelter for a month. My spouse, pets and possessions remain in Georgia. All my energies focus on a job that is never finished and stretching a paycheck that finishes too quickly. The bohemian adventure has lost its panache.
My temporary clothing racks, hastily assembled to expand the non-existent closet are bowing to extended usage and heavy winter clothing. One collapsed last week temporarily trapping me in the bathroom until I could wedge my way out. Buying a replacement would be admitting I believe this siutation will continue indefinately, so I bought a roll of duct tape and put the pieces back together.
The slight PVC pipe was still too wobbly to hold firm, so I rearranged the room, cramming the stand between the tiny dorm-room bed and the wall. Sometime during the night another section snapped, waking me with an avalanche of slacks and sweaters.
Another round of duct tape seems to have done the trick. It isn't pretty, but it seems to be holding on.
Which is pretty much the way things are.


Copyright 2005 Judi Griggs