Settling In
Reflections of Change
The move itself was a little rough. The night between when the movers came to pack and load, and the day they arrived at the new house with our stuff, I only managed a few hours of sleep. I had to get up early that morning and drive all the way back up to northern Virginia for a doctor’s appointment I didn’t want to have to reschedule. So, I was up at 4:30, on the road by 5:30, then back down to the house by 10, having driven about 100 miles back and forth.
The movers were a trip — not a good trip, but a bad trip. Everything they packed was poorly labeled, so boxes wound up all over the house, many in the wrong place. So, unpacking has been fun. It took me all weekend into Monday night before I found my dress shoes, buried in a box simply marked “clothes”, along with many others marked the same way. Let’s just say, if you’re into mysteries, this was the move for you! Not a big fan, myself.
I only went in to work two days last week, and I learned the trick is to leave early from either end of the journey, and to time my entries and exits into the Hot Lanes just so, so I get the benefit of them where things are really jammed on the main highway, but not have to pay an arm and a leg to ride them all the way. I’ve also learned a few alternate routes, if the main highway and hot lanes get too jammed up. That worked well Friday — it took me about 70 minutes to cover the 50 mile journey, each way — not too bad.
We’ve run into a number of technical difficulties, between the phones and one of the cars, just enough to make things more interesting.
But, all in all, I’d say we’re settling in nicely. Strange to say, but true, that this place already feels more like home to me than the place we lived in for the past 23 years did. I guess because, for where I am at this point in my life, this house and this area are just about a better fit. In Vienna, I often felt a little bit out of my element. We made the most of it, and made it feel as close to home as we could — heck, it was home enough that we thought we’d live there the rest of our lives — but, while it had a lot of appeal, with everything we thought we needed, it never felt quite like this place already does.
I’ve worked hard all week, getting things in their place and figuring out how things here work, how to incorporate my routines into this setting, as well as developing a few new routines to fit this place. But, most of the time, it has not felt like work — it’s been a true labor of love. It feels like a lot of things are just falling into place, here.
I haven’t been writing much this month, as the move, as well as an extra duty I’ve picked up at work, have been consuming more of my psychic energy. I have had a number of story-lines percolating during all this move activity, though, and know that I’ll have plenty to write about once everything settles down into livable routines, when I can write without feeling guilty that I could be opening and putting away boxes of stuff.
I’ve also made a decision to go back to writing strictly for free — I want anybody to read my stories, not just those who are paying Medium members. I know, I can use the non-paying link for others to read my stuff — it’s just too much, right now, to have to continually pull down the free link to send to others I want to be able to read it. I find it an unnecessary barrier — I really don’t see why they put that up there. It bothers me.
I also know this means I can’t get my stories curated. I think that policy stinks, but having weighed the options, I decided I write better when I’m not concerned about how much a story will earn. I’m not here for making money. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s just not what I’m about with my writing right now. The whole feeding frenzy involved with that was one stressor too many in my already full life.
Maybe I’ll go back to that when I retire — then, my writing will become more like a full-time job, as I know I plan to publish selected work I’ve already written over the past eight years or so. In retirement, I’ll have the time to perform the required editing and rewriting to get all that material ready for prime-time.
Until then, I’ll just keep hacking away, one story at a time, and challenge myself to continue cultivating a larger audience, without the benefit of curation. I’m not even going to fight that policy with Medium, because, frankly — I really don’t give a damn, beyond stating my previous opinion that I think that policy stinks.
