A lot has been stirring with me the last couple days. Wednesday and Thursday will were quite deep and difficult. Simply put, it looks like I may be adding “unemployed” to my dirtbag resume sooner rather than later. Thursday, then, I hit the phone calls and emails hard and managed to schedule a few interviews for today…. ya know, gotta keep your options open. One the darker side of things; I’m not a huge Goo Goo Dolls fan, but it feels apt to say:
You'd love to go home but you know you ain't got one cuz you live in a world where you're best forgotten
Of course, that pitch isn’t too far off from what you’ll find in Cedar Wright’s Dirtbagging is Dead article.
On the climber / dirtbag side of things though that brought up a really serious point. For now, this is an adventure and the adventure is still fun… or at least worth it. I will say, sum of the shimmer has worn off. this is a very l onely path and I’m pretty sick of seeing Barnes & Noble and Walmart logos. That said, a strange sort of ‘normal’ has set in. No, this certianly isn’t a vacation, but living day-to-day has it’s own ways of developing routines and ritual pracitces – though they may seem more like ‘survival mechanisms.’
I was people watching in a parking lot today (a frequent past time for the dirtbag) and saw a group of people – three or four adults in their late 30s and a couple kids – and several of the adults were laughing. I don’t mean a sheepish giggle. I mean rumble and roar, knee-slapping, full on belly laughs. I couldn’t help of think of how pissed my grandma would be that peole would be making such a ‘ruckus’ or ‘scene’ in public. I, on the other hand, felt a rich and warm smile spread across my face. I wonder when the last time I, or my grandma, or anyone reading this was as happy as those people were walking across a parking lot on a hot Friday night?