Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Why does history seem to repeat itself so quickly?

Remember back when I mentioned briefly that I was almost homeless, but luckily a friend swooped in and saved me?

It was a brief mention here, because if I had given it any real thought I probably would have panic-vomited all over the place and ran home to Mumsie. Or turned into one of those au-natural moms, sold all my earthly possessions, bought a Volkswagon bus, traded my shoes for patchouli oil and camped in the woods for the summer.

Only, I'm 33 years old, I have three kids, and a cat, with joint-custody of a dog (ain't nobody got time for that story right now. Maybe later) and a penchant for running water. Also, I don't relish the idea of my home requiring unleaded (diesel?) fuel and being mobile.

While the idea of possibly securing actual Sasquatch footage was tempting, I felt that I should hold out for a few weeks, just to see what kind of stationary living quarters were available.

Cut to three months later and I still hadn't found a place.

I didn't panic. Should I have? Eh, I dunno. What does panic do for us, other than make us sweat and act inappropriately, which later leads to writing apology letters for things we've done while under the influence of fear?

I've learned one thing over the last year: Right when it would appear that you're out of time, something always pops up.

That thing would be another friend offering his house. And that means his dog can live at home again (which means I don't have to tell you that story after all), I won't have to panhandle on the corner, and we can all bathe daily.

Wow.

Two years ago, when we left California, I would never have been able to smoke enough crack to imagine my life as it is today.

It's not a bad life.

I'm not complaining.

I've done a lot of growing (thank God it's not weight gain, for once. I meant personal growth), met some really stellar people, re-enrolled in college, and started from scratch, basically.

I can't say I've changed, and I cannot say I've remained the same.

We're always changing. In little ways we stagnate, improve, slide backwards.

But I invite any one of you to look back on the last year of your life. Even if it appears that nothing has changed, how different are our lives today, than they were a year ago?

We have to just keep on keeping on.

Also, check back tomorrow for the story of how I thought I was a victim of a home invasion. Apparently, when I showed up here to write that little gem, my subconscious took over and wrote this instead.
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