Tuesday, but No Tacos!

I’m kinda bummed about the “no tacos” thing, but I suppose I’ll struggle through.

Photo by Jarritos Mexican Soda on Unsplash

I missed posting on Sunday, mostly because I was busy doing some other things. I’ve been pulling out my journals from years past. When I purged to get ready to move into the camper, I honestly thought about just burning them right then, but looking back at some entries made me realize there are snapshots there of my state of mind in those circumstances. I had a few from before the ex entered my life, ones that I wrote in during the reign of narcissism (pretty dark, actually), and am working my way through the ones I’ve written since the divorce. The earliest one I reviewed started in 1994, where I learned a hard truth:

Yes, that’s right, it appears I’ve hated nearly every job I’ve had for at least 30 years. That said, I did love my job as an educator at the hospital I worked at in Mississippi. Unfortunately, that was another casualty of the tailspin I fell into after the raid on the house and the ex being arrested. I’m coming up on that anniversary soon. Six years of survival. I count it as a win.

But...this is not about bitterness regarding the past.

This is the first time since the blowup that I’ve felt emotionally ready to look at my journey objectively (read: without melting down). I’m actually proud of myself for being brave enough to look at who I have been over the years. I mean, we are often our own worst critic, right? I won’t share the observations I made from reviewing those older journals. Let’s just say that I ended up making notes as if I were a stranger, looking at the characteristics of the individual whose journal I was reading. No hate, just an honest examination from a safe distance of a woman to identify patterns, obsessions, and delusions a frame of mind. I would recommend therapy. Definitely.

Aside from that, I’m thrilled to say that it looks like my going fully remote in my current job is a go. I’ve already made my reservations at an RV park in Texas and have locked in the company that will tow Opal down there. I will need to warn them that any abuse or neglect of Opal will result in severe consequences. Not necessarily from me, but I wouldn’t tangle with Opal if I was them.

Finally, I have to say that I am learning so much about RV-ing life. I have managed to get up on Opal’s roof a couple of times (I may have been a little scared), and I’ve figured out how to flush my black and gray tanks. I’ve braved spiders and slugs in order to connect up my second hose to the water supply (long story, doesn’t matter), and today...today I got my propane tanks refilled and managed to reconnect them with no problems!

I’m learning all the things.

I had to ask a neighbor to show me how to properly disconnect the propane tanks last night (I get by with a little help from my friends) and while we were chatting, he asked me if this (Opal) was my forever home. I wasn’t sure what to say and told him that I was committed for at least one year, and a lot depended on how things went with the move this fall (I’m not nervous, YOU’RE nervous). But to tell the truth?

I bloody love living in Opal.

Thanks for reading.

XX