I’m always first up. It’s cold here this morning and the windows are fogged with condensation because the propane heater kept us warm inside. I’m looking through the bits that are clear out into a sea of oak, decked with tendrils of Spanish moss, and sweetgum.
The hammock is slung, but it’s probably too chilly to use it today. I tried at a fire the first night, and while it was hot enough to roast our hot dog dinner it never really took well, I think the oak was too damp to get going. I’ll take the remaining wood and hope it dries so we can use it later.
Taking a turn now…
I picked up a head cold, probably from our week at Disney, and it’s kept me up some at night. I’ve vowed not to grab the phone during these sleepless moments, so I’ve just been spending them in my own head. Last night I got tangled there thinking about coming back… the idea of essentially “re-starting” work terrifies me. I built a career, eighteen years…
Maybe I should feel a freedom instead, but I don’t. I feel like, if I’m going to start it all again, why not really start it all again? Reevaluate the whole of things, endeavor to better what I can with the new beginning. Not just the job but everything. How could this transition most benefit our family?
Oh but the old normal has all the gravity! It’s just there waiting, the cushions already worn to fit my rear, the smell familiar. Unless we really consider alternatives, the old normal will just pull us back. Maybe that’s not bad, we spent eighteen years building that, too.
I almost feel like it’s a trap.
“Go experience this wonderful freedom!,” says the World. “Go and explore, see, build amazing experiences and bond with your family in ways you didn’t know were possible! Have time to think, time to exist. Live, truly live!”
But in small text, a disclaimer, spoken two decibels quieter, in micro-print along the bottom of the advertisement, daggered and asterisked: “All lifestyle changes are temporary and subject to revocation upon inevitable return to the rat race. Smoke ’em if ya got ’em.” Something like that, anyway.
Y’all hear that big sucking sound? I’m deciding if I’m going to run the other way. It’s a tough decision.