Gypsy heart with a 30 year mortgage. It's going to take some getting used to. The only endurance event I ever completed successfully was a marathon. Jobs, relationships, and addresses have not customarily enticed me to endure for more than 3 or 4 years. Which is why 2 ex-husbands, 19 previous "permanent" residences, and 20 some different hospital contracts later- I am not surprised to find myself curious about the prospect of buying an old home in Southeastern Italy for 1 Euro (how do I get the Euro symbol? Must put at the top of my to-do list that I never intend starting on). Wouldn't that just be so "Under the Tuscan Sun" of me? It sounds romantic and carefree, and deliciously carb friendly. Damn you corporate America. What is this stingy hold you have over my life, and others, slivering vacation days like some plastic surgeon shaving off the end of someone's nose. I like my vacations in big honking chunks. "Doctor- take it all off and leave nothing to spare!" Let's give vacation time to employees in days, not hours. Let's take vacations in weeks not days! I'm already thinking like a European. Maybe a life in Italy is not such a bad idea after all. Oh hush, I know. I am already having those practical, life application arguments with myself. Ugh, what if what if what if? Shut your pie hole hussy- life isn't being lived by merely having acceptable responses to all the what ifs about a situation. That's for cowards. Or for people with children and responsibilities. Not for dreamers and doers like me! I'm a vagabond heart with Google translate downloaded on my phone. Nothing has to hold me back. Except for COVID and 29 more years on this mortgage. Closed borders are not a gypsy girl's friend. Mortgage smortgage- that can be dealt with in various ways. Did you hear that? The heavy exhale of a defeated soul. Is being carefree and impractical at 44 3/4 charming and enviable or tacky and childish? Only tacky if wearing big, neon pink hoop earrings. That's my final answer.
Life on the ordinary is difficult. Mostly because I've wrapped up my identity with the doings of my life. The coming and going has been feeding my curiosity for 20 years. Since owning my home here in Southern Indiana I have watched more TV then in all the years combined up to this point. It is NOT who I am. (I will only allow the pandemic a small nugget of responsibility for it's part in keeping me home). Sitting around while time ticks by fuels my restlessness. Gray skies and cold wind irritate the travel bug inside of me. It is the last day of January. (Happy Birthday to my beautiful older sister, Carrie).
Dear God, It's me again. When you nudged me homeward bound in 2018 I obeyed. Your mercy and grace in my life have shown up in fairy tale ways. Ways that I will never earn nor deserve. Thank You. Two words that are used so cheaply sometimes. This would not be one of them. Thank You. Thank You. Thank You. I give you all the glory. IJNIP- Amen.
Florida bound in 12 days. But who's counting? Go Brooke!
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