Moving to a new place is exciting. It’s like getting a shot of adrenaline after you’ve been asleep for a long time. What’s less fun is the physical act of putting everything you own into boxes and relocating from point A to point B. It’s exhausting. But once we were able to fully focus on moving tasks, we got them done pretty quickly. Both the car and Cuddlebus are expertly packed to the brim without an inch to spare. The apartment has been cleaned to a sparkle-shine, keys have been handed back over to property management. Now the highway and cheap roadside hotels will be home for the next few days.
After crossing two state lines, the sky is dark with rain clouds and hazy, the air is muggy and thick. A backseat full of leafy houseplants obscures my view in the rear view mirror. Portland is somewhere back there, forgotten as if it had never existed. I’ve lost track of the actual miles and hours on the road. Instead, I measure the miles only by the distance between stops at stations to fuel up on gas, coffee, and snacks.
To my disappointment, I’ve learned that more coffee doesn’t necessarily equal more alertness. After the third or fourth cup I just find myself tired and jittery. The only real cure for exhaustion is sleep. But I won’t be having any of that soon. Queue audiobook.
Jack Reacher audiobooks have become a necessary part of all road trips, and even while driving alone I find myself snorting out loud at Jack Reacher’s over the top machismo. Every book features an abundance of unapologetic, consequence-free killing of dozens of people (they are “bad guys”, which makes it ok). Reacher dispenses frequent little nuggets of sagacity, words to live by. The sentences are short and clipped, the words are gritty and tactile. Just like Reacher. This isn’t profound literature, by any means, but it is entertaining and helps the hours pass.
Tomorrow we will arrive at our new home. It was rented sight-unseen. I hope that it will be as nice as I imagine it to be in my head!
