friday night

joyce found me a trailer to move into. I think it's as old as I am, a Prowler, and it's been sitting in someone's hay barn down the road untouched for years.
I am admittedly a beggar. And still I'm being choosy.
I love how it all worked out, just in the nick of time, and it's free and it's been hauled here and people are looking out for me.
But I still feel like I'm getting kicked out of my home and though I hauled the shop vac over to evict the ten thousand dead flies in there, I just propped the door open with a broom and went for a long walk in the hills instead. I am baulking. I am trying to channel hamish's positivity. I know that it's only temporary and that I will eventually live in a house again, and feel like I have something to show for being 32, and I know I have a good knack for making places homey and I'll do it again here but god damn, I am resistant to move into that thing. It's a turd on wheels. It's half the size of the one we're leaving and I am scared to open the cupboard doors that aren't broken. Everything is orange or brown or both.
I want a home that I can relax into. I want to be able to have all my teas and all my yarn and all my shoes and all my dishes and all my clothing and all my art and photos and camping gear all in one place. I want to know the history of the bed I'm sleeping on. I want to unpack everything. Am I being materialistic? Even if it were just a handful of things, I just want to feel like I can put roots down somewhere.
And I want hamish here. It's a learning curve for me, learning how to deal with propane bottles and power converters and water outflow lines, looking at a truck for him that he wants to buy. Planning our wedding without him.
I promise I'll clean the prowler in the morning. I just want to enjoy this trailer still tonight. And read about the natural history of europe, instead of do any thing on my large list. Won't even brush my teeth! Indulge in my childish moping and denial.

And it feels so much like a friday night tonight. People are going to the movies and having campfires and visiting friends and playing with ponies and having family dinners and every second truck has a boat on top. It feels like the peak of summer. The grocery store was packed with people buying treats. including myself. I spent 45 minutes trying to pinpoint what my cravings desired. Raspberry lime gelato. The real expensive but good corn chips. Cranberry juice. That's not like me. Melissa thinks I'm pregnant.