It’s been a month since we settled into the new house. I’m happy to report that we are completely unpacked, although I keep feeling like I don’t belong in a place this big. For the first time that Talking Heads song (sort of) makes sense to me: “You may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile / You may find yourself in a beautiful house with a beautiful wife / You may ask yourself, well, how did I get here?”
Oh man, I’m getting old. I just confessed to understanding something Brian Eno wrote. Crap.
Anyway. How did I get here? Life has taken some pretty damn odd twists and turns for me, and the course I’ve charted looks like somebody fed a map into an infinite improbability drive while it was broken but decided to go with it anyway. Yet somehow . . . everything turned out awesome. Despite my own oddities and neuroses. Despite the people who have told me repeatedly (sometimes screamed repeatedly) that I’m doing life wrong. Despite the mistakes I have owned up to and mistakes I still haven’t recognized. Despite people who out-and-out wronged me and other people I just wasn’t destined to be pals with. Despite my own self-sabotaging insecurities. Everything is turning out pretty awesome. Not perfect, but that would be boring. I much prefer awesome.
So here I am, a month after moving in. The neighbors are awesome, the weather is beautiful, the house is home, the cat hasn’t peed on anything he isn’t supposed to pee on, I’ve got dirt to dig in, vegetables to plant, and family to be with.
I think I can handle this life.