The Changing Shape of Things

I have a new shape in my life: new glasses. See?

The drivers of Nova Scotia will be thrilled. Before these glasses, when everything was slightly blurred and flattened (due to astigmatism), did I ever slow down or drive cautiously? Um, does anyone know anything at all about me? I drive the way I drive. Which was shaped primarily by the freeways of Los Angeles.

But now that everything is sharp and in focus and actually 3D (and even a bit HD) I can see and truly appreciate the terror on other drivers' faces as I violently careen around these country roads.

The shape of my life is also changing. I'm a very superstitious person when it comes to the dreaded Jinx, so I'm taking a risk here. But after the last few weeks I've had, I can't see how it can get much worse. (There, I went ahead and set off the jinx. Darn it all to heck!) Oh well, you see how I can't win? Here it is:

The house thing fell through. It wasn't meant to be. Yes, this house we're living in is selling (knock on wood for me, y'all, m'kay?), but we're not buying a new house. That is, not yet. The time has come, in fact, to say goodbye to the east and head west. It's a decision I've thought about for years, knowing it would come, knowing I would have to make it. The time is now -- the "someday" is now. The future has happened. This is tomorrow. (Okay, I'm overdoing it a bit here, aren't I? Let's just move on...)

This is a complicated situation, but the end result is that it's for the best for all of us. Evan will have a hard go of it, starting over, leaving beloved ones behind and making new friends. I'm not diminishing that by any means, but ... for me, I'm going home to the west... back to where I'm from... sort of. The exact location has yet to be decided, but there's no rush; we still have 6 weeks to figure something out.

We need to have a change of scenery, for our family's health, and for my health. The frequency, duration and intensity of the weather in the maritimes have reduced me to a cowering, shaking, migraine-suffering repository of storm-induced anxiety and excruciating pain. Not being in so much pain equals not being so grumpy and grouchy which equals being a nicer mummy to Evan. Win-win here.

I guess it wouldn't have been so bad if the 26 weeks of unendurable weather (my rough estimate, give or take a few months) were all crammed into one portion and I could vacation elsewhere during that time. But no. Life isn't easy like that. It's pretty much every other day here; the barometric pressure changes daily and with it my pain. Just when there's a days respite and I'm starting to feel better, there's another storm headed in and the following day flattens me like a squirrel on the road into town. (Sorry, little squirrel. I didn't see you in time.) But I don't want to spend my time here complaining. All I'm saying is that I didn't feel like this in either earthquake country or tornado country.

So, we're outta here. But we're together, my boy and I. So I'm happy with that, and all the wonderful adventures that await. In the meantime, I have to sell everything, my house and all that's in it, in only 6 weeks.

So, my point is, knock on wood for us. Please?