It’s already Friday. An entire week of joblessness has passed. I went to Harrison on Monday to drop off guitars at mom’s for storage. I took the scenic route home on Tuesday through Mountain View – a great little town in the middle of nowhere. It’s a bluegrass music destination, though. Nice place to escape or retire to[1], if you don’t mind the homogeneity.
I’ve packed up most everything that I know Trey won’t need in the house, which doesn’t look like much, actually. I need to Freecycle the couch[2] and the mattresses, move the dining table into the garage, and a few other small items and figure out what stays and what goes kitchen-wise. Hopefully I can get everything squared away by Wednesday, my intended departure date.
I was taking down the posters from my music room yesterday and was briefly overcome by the sensation that this is all so much sooner than I had intended. I always knew this house wasn’t permanent, but I had assumed that I would leave it only when I had a family to outgrow it (i.e. a second child). The death of that small unconscious dream bummed me out for some time, before I shook myself out with the realization that it could still happen, and if not there are plenty more little dreams yet to be born.
1.) Or escape from, if you were born there.
2.) I’ve had this couch since senior year of college. It’s gone through several couch covers and remains the most comfortable, if moderately gross, couch ever.