Nomad
The life of the nomad is not one to be envied. I used to hate moving, but after my 3rd move in the month of August, I’m beginning to get the hang of things. I’ve streamlined the process and have now gotten it down to a total of 3 trips with my car. With a rent-a-van, I’m confident I could turn that into a single trip.
It’s a strange thing. I feel like a different person because of it, and I’m not sure if it’s for better or worse. There is something liberating about knowing you can pick up and go at any time if you so please. Not being tied down is indeed a great feeling, which makes me realize that perhaps I shouldn’t lament being single after all, but that’s a topic for a later blog entry. I personally love the changes in scenery and the prospect of living with new people, but the process can still be a bit harrowing. Your impression of someone can change drastically after spending a few weeks living together. They can only hide the negatives so long. There is also something distressing about knowing your entire life can fit into 5 boxes. At least, mine can. That’s not counting the desk, computer, and mattress, though.
I’m not quite sure what the end result of this will be, but I have never felt quite as free as knowing that I have no idea where I will be living next week. Or maybe I’m trapped. I can’t tell yet, but it’s exciting and stressful nonetheless. Call it my anti-drug, or maybe it’s just my opiate of choice.
It must suck be homeless. I’ve been living more in Panera, Barnes and Noble, and Starbucks (places with wireless access) now more than my own room. I’d wager it’s easier for me to pull this off than someone who hasn’t had a shower in a few weeks. If I could’ve found a way to sleep at any of these places overnight, I probably would have done so by now. It does suck not having a comfortable place to call home.
Is this how the military makes people lose their identity? I am beginning to see how it would be a very effective way of doing so. Give recruits a bag which consists of all their worldly belongings then send them off. Force them to move numerous times, never allowing them to get settled and attached to a locale, thus building a strong sense of independence… these are good things, right?
The funny thing is how in the past month of moving I have started getting absorbed in submarine books. Living as a rogue sub commander on the open seas suddenly has a strange appeal to me. Trolling enemy waters in cramped confines, never knowing entirely what is ahead of or behind you. Don’t worry; I don’t think I’ve gone crazy just yet. Give it due time.
I will leave you with an exchange I had earlier on this topic with a friend of mine:
[19:00] aleybees: DONT KILL YOURSELF
[19:00] xbobxedgex: working on it.
It’s a strange thing. I feel like a different person because of it, and I’m not sure if it’s for better or worse. There is something liberating about knowing you can pick up and go at any time if you so please. Not being tied down is indeed a great feeling, which makes me realize that perhaps I shouldn’t lament being single after all, but that’s a topic for a later blog entry. I personally love the changes in scenery and the prospect of living with new people, but the process can still be a bit harrowing. Your impression of someone can change drastically after spending a few weeks living together. They can only hide the negatives so long. There is also something distressing about knowing your entire life can fit into 5 boxes. At least, mine can. That’s not counting the desk, computer, and mattress, though.
I’m not quite sure what the end result of this will be, but I have never felt quite as free as knowing that I have no idea where I will be living next week. Or maybe I’m trapped. I can’t tell yet, but it’s exciting and stressful nonetheless. Call it my anti-drug, or maybe it’s just my opiate of choice.
It must suck be homeless. I’ve been living more in Panera, Barnes and Noble, and Starbucks (places with wireless access) now more than my own room. I’d wager it’s easier for me to pull this off than someone who hasn’t had a shower in a few weeks. If I could’ve found a way to sleep at any of these places overnight, I probably would have done so by now. It does suck not having a comfortable place to call home.
Is this how the military makes people lose their identity? I am beginning to see how it would be a very effective way of doing so. Give recruits a bag which consists of all their worldly belongings then send them off. Force them to move numerous times, never allowing them to get settled and attached to a locale, thus building a strong sense of independence… these are good things, right?
The funny thing is how in the past month of moving I have started getting absorbed in submarine books. Living as a rogue sub commander on the open seas suddenly has a strange appeal to me. Trolling enemy waters in cramped confines, never knowing entirely what is ahead of or behind you. Don’t worry; I don’t think I’ve gone crazy just yet. Give it due time.
I will leave you with an exchange I had earlier on this topic with a friend of mine:
[19:00] aleybees: DONT KILL YOURSELF
[19:00] xbobxedgex: working on it.
posted by Bob at
3:41 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home