Maybe it was the copperhead bite. It was definitely the neighbors. Possibly it was that Trump's election and the release of Handmaid's Tale happened simultaneously. Perhaps it is just that I felt I have spent too much of my life being an adult and/ or I am tired of country life...
I was 17 when I settled down with my ex-husband. We bought our first house when I was 20. At 23 I adopted the 6 year old child of a relative. I own lots of houseplants, many of which I have had for a decade or longer. I possess a large box of assorted size light bulbs in my cupboard under the stairs and copious amount of various bathroom essentials for just incase. I own and use a label maker ...... NOT because I got an extra good deal on any of these things but just because I am a super responsible and organized person with a splash of neuroticism thrown in for good measure (I know because I took an internet test).
I also do not like to do the same thing for very long. Here is a condensed version of my job history:
1. Taco Bell (1989)- I worked there for a month, and in that short amount of time I was robbed of all the self respect that a 16 year old could muster. It happened when the then "love of my life", Robert (who never gave me the time of day) came sauntering into the place and up to the counter to speak the six words that are still burned into my soul, "I would like three soft tacos." I took the order and stood casually at the counter floating on cloud 9. It was then that my manager came up to me and told me to go over to the trash cans, step on the garbage, pull the bags out of the bins, and take them out to the dumpster... all in front of Robert. I was still dragging the bags over to the dumpster as I saw him walk out and climb into his Mustang. I quit the job the next day.
2. Telemarketing (1990-1994)- I worked there part time for 4 years and with bonuses I made about $14 and hour. My ex-husband worked there as well and made slightly more. 2 part time jobs in the 90s and we could afford a house payment, a car payment, cable, utilities, and groceries. By contrast, almost 30 years later, and I have no clue how my soon to be adult children will ever be able to afford to move out. I can not comprehend any one being against minimum wage increases, if only for the fact that no one wants their children living at home forever.
3. Self Employed (1994-1998)- My ex and I worked as middle men, from the comfort of our own home, selling organic dog shampoo to dog groomers all over the country. It could have been extremely lucrative as organic anything was just becoming increasingly popular but we were in our 20's. I think that should suffice as reason enough for the failure.
4. Women's Abuse Shelter (1998-2002)- This was by far my favorite job. I worked with children at a shelter for battered women. Children were broken up into various age groups during the day so that the women could meet with attorneys or try and find work. I bounced around where I was needed; so I didn't know what I was doing from day to day. I could spend an entire day holding and loving on babies. I could spend an entire day laughing and engaging with toddlers, or I could be needed to go on field trips with the teens... good field trips too... like to water parks or the zoo... I only left the job because I became pregnant with my daughter. Which, is semi ironic because I never wanted kids until I was around all of those children who had been through so much.
5. Daycare (2004)- My ex and I split up and I needed a job and a way to still be around my daughter who was one at the time. I don't think I lasted a month there. It was awful for my daughter and for myself. They begged me to stay even though I literally misplaced a child with Down's Syndrome during my short time there.
6. Data Entry (2004)- I did data entry for the National Cutting Horse Association. Working for them is prestigious if you are into that sort of thing. I was not. I hated that job. I also loathed most of the cowboys that worked there and frequented the space. Beyond that, I didn't understand then that Texas is a right to work state and I should have waited another month before I dyed my hair bright magenta. I blame it all on my new found singleness so losing the job was not entirely my fault.
7. Golf Course (2004)- If you are a freshly single female and unemployed might I suggest getting a job working at a golf course? It was like being away at college without all the boring lectures and learning stuff.
8. Waited Tables (2005-2009)- I waited tables at The Modern in Fort Worth. It is a tiny, beautiful and, most importantly, expensive restaurant located in the art museum. The money was great and the atmosphere incredible. I only left because I had remarried by then and was pregnant with my son.
9. Self Employed (2011-2015)- I ran an art gallery and vintage resale shop called Et Cetera. I actually loved the store but couldn't stand the 50 minute commute so when someone came in offering to buy the building I only hesitated to say okay for about 60 seconds. Having a brick and mortar place isn't a necessity any longer, it seems. I can do pretty much the same sales via my ebay shop and FB marketplace. The commute is better as well.
10. Self Employed (2015- current)- Nick and I remodel properties... either ours or others...
Notice a pattern? I have NEVER worked anywhere longer than 4 years. For someone who has an extremely difficult time dealing with change I don't apparently fare well with mundane and ritual either.
It has been eating at me for years now, my house is too big and the diversity of culture too small. I feel like we have lived and learned as much as we can get out of these surroundings. So, we saved and bought a school bus. "OUR" game plan is to renovate it into an RV. "MY" game plan is to turn it into a tiny home and live in it for happily ever after.
Not to sound elitist but I feel just a little done with the novelty of seeing things like this as I drive through neighborhoods in town:
I'm also tired of death. When I lived in the city I felt it was bad luck to pass a dead animal on the road. It was a silly superstition but one that I gave a lot of credence to as an animal lover. This morning, as I drove the children to school, I passed the remains of (in various stages of decomposition) a dog, a feral pig, a skunk, a raccoon, a coyote, and I killed a small bird that flew out of a tree and hit my windshield. I suffered no ill incidents throughout the day but I am still weary of it. Not to mention the fields of sweet baby goats that turn into adult goats and then disappear. I wish to move where I can become oblivious to where food comes from once again.
I love animals but I know I loved them more when I lived in the city. Back then, my worst encounters were with the ants that came in the house every spring or a dog that defecated in the house. Last spring, a goat had jumped the fence and consumed/ murdered... 13 crepe myrtles, 2 rose bushes, 7 shrubs, 2 pistachio trees, 1 Japanese maple, a wisteria vine, 2 large lady banks, 2 sage bushes, a lilac bush, and countless flowers that had just begun to sprout. With that said, goats may look cute but there are reasons that their image is associated with Satan.
And that is just a domesticated animal. The wild animals are even worse. For instance, this summer in just 7 days I had seven dead birds. I was positive that a raccoon was decapitating my guineas and leaving their bodies, in mockery, strewn all over my property. After days of trying to catch the culprit I had only succeeded in trapping several chickens and a possum. Finally, I conceded to using the last victim as bait (something I hesitated to do because the stench of death could attract larger, more difficult, problematic animals). That night I put the trap and headless bird back in the location of the last murder... and in the morning I discovered my villian wasn't a raccoon after all.
I can now add owls to my list of animals that I used to love but now loathe. In case you are curious, my current list in order of hatred: 1. Turtles 2. Owls 3. Raccoons
And since we are on the subject of guineas; I think I can tell a story that pretty much sums up my attitude about country living these days. "Echo" is an all white guinea that runs around the property with 5 other guineas. One day I watched as she paced frantically along a fence line separated from the group. After observing this for 24 hours I tried to intervene. My assistance only led to the bird wedging herself in the fence instead of moving around the fence. If you are unfamiliar with guineas, they are like small, loud, pea brained dinosaurs. They are wild creatures that would rather break their own necks than allow you to handle them. However, it became quickly obvious that the fastest and most productive thing to do would be to grab her and move her to the other birds. With all of the grace of a 2 year old trying to play football, I grabbed the flailing bird and threw her under my arm as she struggled and screamed. At that moment I understood why she had been ostracized from the group. A cyst on her neck, the size of a baseball burst open and sent pus spraying in a 360 degree angle. Of course, my face and body occupied about 3/4th of that range. I smelled like death for days and for equally long I tasted the vile of guinea pus that went up my nose and trinkled into my mouth.
In a bus there are usually no copperhead snakes. I will definitely have different neighbors and Trumps election and the potential of an evangelical uprising seems escapable with a home on wheels. Either way, I have resigned and given my notice to country living. We may eventually change the name of B.O.B to something sweet like, "Greener Side" or "Green Acres" because, after 10 years out here, I will finally confess to agree with Gabor at this point, " Darling I love you, but give me Park Avenue "