It was around this time that I remembered the last time I'd been forced into the GMC. Brian was off at the Folk Fest in the Montana and I was at home trying to find my shoes and undergarments to transition into the real world and take in a family wedding. I wasn't confident enough to actually show up at the celebration in a rusted half ton, so ploughed out to my sister's estate (sans side view mirror) to catch a ride with her. After the nuptuals (an event worth a post or two, no.... possibly an entirely new blogspot......) we reconvened at her house for some cider and tears. (laughter induced).
Realizing that the regular world had to be back at the office the next morning, I grasped that it was probably high time I took my truck and me back home.
But I couldn't find the keys anywhere. (biggest loser.... blahdy blah....)
Lucky for me, the relatives had a spare key and hustled me out the door, into the night, and towards the country roads that would take me home.
Fast forward to suburban Winnipeg. When I rumbled into town, I wanted to be all savvy and metropolitan and lock that enviable ride up safe and sound against potential joy-riders.
Except that the spare key that my sister gave me was for the ignition and not for the locked door. Which left me up the proverbial creek without a paddle. Or conversely, on the suburban street without a key. Shy of busting off the rusty side panel, or slipping through the rusting floorboards, I was at the mercy of my munificent friend, who charitibly offered to drive me back to Hoo-Ville for that other magical key. Sort of like the key to the city, but way different.
It was around about this time that it dawned on me with some resounding finality that I was always going to work from home. That it would be in my best interest, and in the best interest of most people I love that I never, ever leave home again.
Meanwhile, Karla brought me to my sister's office so that I could get the proper set of keys and set the world back to rights. I thanked her profusely, leaned over to give her a good-bye hug and usher her into the new life that awaited her in another city far, far away.
Which is when she patiently reminded me that she would still need to drive me back to the city, with the key, to get back into my packing taped truck and return home again.
And I wonder why I never finished my University degree.
I further wondered why, and how I had friends. Except that people like to be made to feel useful. And benevolent. Which is what I do for people. By quick comparison, I make them look smart, and useful, and capable. Furthermore, I am willing to stay at home most of the time, and look after their children. Without a vehicle on the driveway.
So. If you know anyone who needs childcare, please don't forward them this post. I imagine that I'll be spending a lot of time at home this next year, having never finished my degree, and fulfilling the needs of people around me to feel useful and needed.
Furthermore, I will be alienating any vestiges of friendships that I have remaining in geographical locations outside of town limits.
Call it a preemptive strike. I'd prefer they not find out firsthand just what a commitment it is to have long distance relationships with the likes of me. Besides, I'll be busy working from home. Got some mechanical bills to pay.