Random musings when I should be cleaning the house

Sometimes I imagine what it would be like if I actually was what I appear to be, as I dash out to my car 5 minutes late every morning, the same as all my neighbors. We dash out to our cars and wave, but do not stop to say hi (because we are 5 minutes late), and off we all go to our modest jobs. Every weekday.

And every evening we all come home and wave a tired little wave (but do not stop to say hi or discuss the complexities of life) because we are tired after the long day. Some of us park and then walk to the mailboxes, others stop their cars at the boxes, get out, get the mail, get back in and drive the remaining block home. Either way, we all go in, and fix a bite to eat, and sit on our couches and eat our reheated pizza or our cold tuna sandwiches (sans lettuce because we didn’t make it to the grocery store). And there we are.

I feel like I fit in fine, collecting my little bit of daily mail, mostly junk, plus a mortgage statement every month. My schedule is regular and unremarkable. My modest townhome is in line with my modest state job income. This little slice of life looks internally consistent.

The only visible oddity is several pallets of bricks in my driveway, which are now permanent fixtures. (Do I fire Sam and lose the large down payment I gave him, or just wait for an undetermined length of time?)

But despite appearances, everyone’s reality is always more complicated than it looks. I am lucky that my reality isn’t anything terrible like death or disease or divorce or all the things that happen in life to the best of us when we least expect it.

My hidden reality is fine, just a lot to keep up with. I don’t know why, but I’ve been getting emails from perspective coaching clients every day for over a week now. I’m not advertising. Did someone publish my link somewhere?

Speaking of advertising, we have tenants leaving the Peregrine house, they bought a new house, and they’ve given us plenty of notice, so it’s all good. I’m running that ad, and fielding those calls and emails. People ask me the darndest things – they wonder if I’ll hold it for them until July (hello – no). Not without rent!  It’s March! I don’t care what day they actually move in, or if they ever actually move in; they aren’t tying it up until they pay rent.

And real estate agents leave me cheerful, urgent messages to call them right back, with no actual reason why I might want to do that. In this region, agents rarely help people find rentals (and if they did have a tenant for me, they would say so in the message). These calls are just agents looking for clients – in case someday I want to sell the rentals or buy more. They probably have access to data where they can see that we’ve churned properties recently, and who knows, we may not be done. And maybe they’re right?

And then there’s the remodel in Placitas. This is the first weekend I wasn’t downright depressed to be out there. We still have piles of boxes everywhere, and no window coverings, and lots of details undone. But the kitchen cabinets are installed!! And some of the furniture is in some semblance of order.

And we sort of have a bed now. I ordered a California King mattress by mistake (we meant to upgrade to a King), but it turns out the Cali King is plenty enormous enough. We’re used to a Queen (which is now in Santa Fe). John’s a little worried he won’t be able to find a headboard he likes in the Cali size, but that concern is for some months or who knows, years from now. It will be a long time before we get around to buying a headboard. The headboard is not very high on our list of priorities. I can’t just go order one (my speciality) because he wants to pick something out special. We may be moved again by the time that happens.

This weekend we are headed to Houston to visit Monica. She’s been enormously helpful this past year or two (she’s better at moving than I am, and I’m not just saying that. I’ve had a lot of practice, but I’m just not getting any better at it.) So John’s going down to do some handyman items at her house. He leaves tonight. I don’t have a lot of time off, so I’m working most of the week and flying down on Thursday night.

Many of you know that I enjoy plane flights about as much as people who hate roller coasters enjoy those. When I was a kid there was something at the fair that I think we called squirrel cages. It spun around fast while at the same time swinging around in big swoops. Have you ever tried those at the fair? I did once and thought I was going to die! To continue the analogy, I don’t actually think the plane is going to crash, but my body appears to think dying is imminent. What other people feel as a modest amount of movement, my brain interprets as an insane amount of speed and motion, even without any turbulence.

Meanwhile, I think I’m getting a cold, No! I hate the final cold of the season. I am so sick of winter and I don’t care if I’m lucky to be in New Mexico and it’s so much worse elsewhere, etc., etc., I still think winter sucks! Anyway, I’ve had a migraine for 3 days (I’m not feeling too bad, still functioning fine), but fighting off the cold has triggered migraines, bla-bla-bla.

It may have something to do with the unexpected snow flurries and crazy high winds while we were hiking on Sunday. But it was worth it! At least I thought so at the time. I might not think so tomorrow.

No, I have not yet heard whether I’m going to get the management position. My boss has asked me for a listing of my entire career, month-by-month, including everything, all the way back, including the internships 20+ years ago, including all the coaching, everything & everything! I typically only list the last decade or so, which is the most relevant. Why would anyone care if I taught geography for two years at a community college in the 1990’s?

It took me half the weekend to get it put together. I can now confidently tell you that I’ve been working for 24 years and 7 months. (Holy shit, I am old.) It would have been 24 years and 10 months if it weren’t for the 3 months I took off between semesters the summer of 1995. I remember it clearly – I spent it reading textbooks. In particular I remember a biodiversity textbook. Why did I spend it reading textbooks? If I had only somehow known that was going to be my only 3 months off in my entire life, maybe I would have done something, I don’t know, gone to Europe or something. I could have read textbooks any other time (and I have, and I will).

On that note – if you actually read this far, you probably have something better to do by now, so I’ll sign off till next time.