The holidays have worn me out, the emptiness that attends them and their passing. Not just the seasonal melancholia but the mild exhaustion of having endured the anxiety that seems to cover the month in its entirety.
It looks as if I may be on the road soon. I'll very likely put all of my stuff in storage, might head east by car. Perhaps all the way across, back to the east coast. I just don't know.
Or, I might buy a house and go nowhere.
There is an apartment that I might rent, also. Though it is as expensive as a house and will function in a similar way: prohibitory as an obligation though nearly complete as an immediate solution. If what I wish to have most is an obligation that prevents me from making other choices.
There is, of course, the boy to consider. I do not wish to be apart from him for very long. Then there is the job. Though I believe that is something I can continue to do in this capacity for a temporary time. I would need to check.
There is also the winter to consider, the Rocky Mountains to cross without snow tires in a 4-cylinder car. Who is to say what might happen... and that seems to be the most alluring sense that I get when considering it. The thought acts upon me like a warm dream.
The road calls me dear....
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