It’s raining outside the cottage this chilly evening. Pugsly does not like rain, so instead of using the doggie door, when I got home from an errand, there was a little smelly surprise at my feet just inside the front door.
My second thought is, “Inclement weather is going to be rough on the road with the dogs.”
Pugsly is now about 13 years old, and with the herniated disc in her lower back, signals from her brain to her hindquarters are sketchy, especially to her rear left leg, which often doesn’t quite make it all the way to the floor causing her to stumble. This also means that she isn’t able to hold her bathroom needs in quite as well as when she was younger. I worry that it will get worse. Will I get her diapers? Perhaps I should bring some on the road as a just in case.
I spent a month in the camper with the dogs in October, and there were some mishaps, but nothing insurmountable. I’m sure that anything that happens I can deal with as needed. And I’ve plenty places to land. The problems begin in my head when I start thinking about the post-cottage, post-job time that starts in just a couple of weeks and the uncomfortable untethered feeling creeps in.
“Is this totally stupid?”
“I had a career, am I really hurting my future?” (did I want that future?)
“You really want to live in that teeny space for an extended period of time?”
“What do I do with all this stuff?”
“$70 a month for a storage unit full of stuff for an unknown future. That’s stupid. Just take the family furniture and make a beeline for Illinois and then start the trip. But… I don’t wanna. I’ll come back for it. But $70 a month for a storage unit full of stuff….”
I go around like this, less than I was before I made the decision to jump, so there is that. I know that the daily little stressors here displace into future stress thoughts and the trick is to out-maneuver them. It isn’t always easy to do that.
The thing is, I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. We’ve done this already.
It’s not a big deal.
The anticipation is always the hurdle.