In which I decide that the best thing to do would be to just sell everything, live out of a camper, work odd jobs and leave no forwarding address

Today on NPR, Iggy Pop said that he envied animals because they could be satisfied. In humans, that sense of contentedness is fleeting, he claimed.

Iggy, baby, I feel you.

I am having one of those days where the idea of just selling everything, packing up the kids and hitting the road sounds mighty tempting. Except that gas is over $3 a gallon again, so when I say "hit the road" what I really mean is "find a Walmart parking lot somewhere and set up camp". I'd say "move to a foreign country where everything is dirt cheap and I could live like a queen" except that we'd still have to work sometimes, and I am not in the mood to try to find work in a foreign country. It's hard enough working in the good old USA, where I speak the language and have all of my documentation. Last fall, we discussed moving back to the northeast, to be closer to family. The plan was vetoed, because there was no work in the Northeast, no way to sell our house here without losing a bundle. And no way I could leave, and take my heart with me. If I were to leave, my heart would surely stay behind.

It all comes down to this: No matter where you live - even paradise - life seems like a lot of bullshit for very little reward. Working to live - and struggling to do so - is not always a happy shiny feeling. The thought of not having a Maui version of a mortgage ? Tempting. Very tempting. The price of paradise is the perfect example of "champagne taste on a beer budget". You make it work, somehow, because it's fucking MAUI and you'd be an idiot to leave, right ? I mean come on - you are living the dream.

Right ?

Yeah, whatever you say.

Meh. Argh. Phooey. Pfft.

I need a reality check regarding life in these United States of ours - the ones I fled so many years ago by choice, chasing sunshine and rainbows. I know it's tough all over. I know it's a struggle. I know it's a pain in the ass. I know I know I know. I just want to be able to breathe again.

Because what is the point of living in paradise, if you can't enjoy it ?

My task for today - at 3am I can dream big - is to get my ass to the very beautiful, very free beach. And put my toes in the sand. And wiggle them, enjoying the freedom of a day off, the fresh cool air, and the open ocean that surrounds me.

I am not trapped. I could leave any time. I'm not going anywhere.