Fights and Feelings
9.16.2020 Thoughts about RV life
There are so many aspects of RV life I’m not telling you because if I did, these newsletters would be so long you’d never open them anymore. And because I have so many amazing photos to show you, I forget to tell you about our fights and feelings, our defeats and victories. But here are a few.
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I perversely enjoy the repetition of opening and closing all the windows and blinds everytime we leave and then arrive. Perpetual take-down and set-up. It’s an obsessive-compulsive person’s dream life!
My favorite activity is to go for a solo bike ride when the sun is setting. I put my bluetooth speaker and water bottle in the bike basket. I play some music no one else in the family really likes while I ride. Old lady music I guess. Then I bike along a river or back roads looking at gorgeous scenery, stopping to take pictures whenever I want to. I don’t have to take a vote or tell anyone else I’m stopping. It’s so dreamy! I feel like I’m in a movie montage. All I need is a baguette and a boyfriend.
I asked the kids yesterday what they thought of living like this. Zane answered right away. It seems he had already thought about it.
“It’s like we’re in an elevator that’s going down to hell. And we can’t get off the elevator.”
So eloquent! Isn’t he?
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I know I’ve mentioned the grit on the floors; but it really bears repeating. No matter how many times I sweep, it always seems like someone came around and dumped a box of grape-nuts on the floor.
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Since we aren’t eating out ever again, we treat ourselves to whatever treats we want at our grocery stops. This includes lots of chips and candy; plenty of pasta, bread, crackers and cookies; fresh fruits and veggies. But the freezer is too small for ice cream. We’ve been going to ice cream shops whenever possible. We have discovered huckleberry floats! They are $5 a piece and worth every penny.
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Here’s a surprise: I didn’t bring any gin on this trip and don’t buy it at our stops. No alcohol at all. I mean, who even am I?!
Well, you see, I drank enough cocktails in the first months of quarantine to last me for the rest of the year. Also, you know that part of drinking where you come down and are really grumpy and tired? I didn’t want to put my family through that in such an enclosed space. Mother of the year, amiright?
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Ice cold martinis are something I really miss, I’m not gonna lie. Other things I’m yearning for from home: my water pik, playing tennis with my buddies, reliable, fast cell service and Wifi. I also really miss hot french fries and good sushi. But those are more covid-induced losses, not a result of downsizing.
I do NOT miss bras, make-up, shaving, robo-calls, or traffic.
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Being on this trip often feels like a great indulgence. I have something like survivor’s guilt because everyone is stuck at home and we are not. Staying at home was really starting to mess with my mind. I was so bored I started dreaming of ways to change my life once the restrictions were lifted. I thought about getting braces and changing my entire wardrobe. (Both totally ridiculous ideas.) I did cut off all my hair, which I’ve wanted to do for years. I even started thinking about moving out of our house — my Barbie dream house that I love! Crazytown!
Are you having these kinds of fantasies, too?
I call it pandemic brain, where you start imagining the worst and you feel trapped and confused. I started questioning all of my friendships, and wondering what I could do to bring some sense of meaning to my life of isolation.
All of those thoughts and questions haven’t disappeared just because we are trying this new way of life. But I have more to think about now — making plans, doing chores, researching places — so my mind doesn’t have time to go down the negative rabbit holes as often.
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My family would never be on this trip if it weren’t for the coronavirus. Now that we are, I’m trying not to judge my feelings and reactions to our struggles and joys. Honestly, it isn’t working. I overthink everything, same as I always have. But I really am trying to go with the flow, and observe myself living in a motorhome, wearing cute masks, and washing dishes by hand like it’s 1979.
Thanks for reading. This installment brought to you by, Laurel Mercantile Spring playlist and cheese puffs
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