So now what
I’ve spent 20 years complaining about storage units.
It was a glorious day when I emptied my “temporary” one in West Palm that housed our shit for a decade.
But the Pittsburgh one was always out of reach, you know?
I never had the money. Never had the time.
And even though I feel like I let go of those resentments …
I never had the money to buy a laptop so I could travel …
I never had the time because work was always too busy to take more than a day off here and there.
And buying plane tickets for Mom and me … and a hotel for at least a week or two … was daunting.
Like … why go to observe/inventory the unit if we weren’t going to clean it out?
Then she got sick. Not that I probably could have gotten her on a plane anyway, what with covid and security screenings.
There was no way she was going to be that close to people.
But then … I did it.
Whoever says you can’t go home … you can, even if it’s two decades later.
But what do you do afterward?
What do you do when the trip that gave you the will to live is now over?
I mean, after you eat all the baked goods and use up all the condiments that you picked up while you were there.
Now I have a house full of boxes from TWO storage units …
Not to mention a living room full of balcony furniture because your HOA told you to clear it off so they can “do work” on it.
Like they “did work” on the elevator for six months.
I’m sitting here watching the Steelers-Saints game in Paris. And I want to see the Eiffel Tahr for myself.
But … we are a LONG way away from my credit card’s recovery from my fulfilling-yet-frustrating trips to Tokyo and Pittsburgh.
(For real, I will never not think of those selfies I took from some stupid Tokyo burial ground, trying to act happy when I was pissed off to be standing there by myself.)
I’m almost afraid to plan Paris with K. Like … is that going to be another “higher highs” and “lower lows” trip?
That’s a separate topic, I guess.
For now, it’s wow, the big thing I anticipated/dreaded is over.
What do I do in the meantime till I find the next high to chase?
All I really want is someone to talk to. Who will listen. Really listen.
And maybe … for once in my stupid life since Mom was still alive … someone who will put me, if not first … at least not a distant second?