10 Years Later

camper bike

Just DO it

Times flies by, there’s no escaping it. I read a post this morning by Brian on the Everywhere Once Blog called “7 Lessons From a Year On the Road”. Lesson number one made my hair stand on end.

1)      How easy it is to not follow your dreams. Inertia is an incredibly powerful force. It’s far easier to follow a routine, even a hated one, than it is to do something risky, unfamiliar, and meaningfully different.

Yikes! Self-examination gives me indigestion. It occurs to me that I’ve turned go with the flow into an art form and an EXCUSE. When I talk to Mr. Husband about something I want to do or a dream, his standard answer is “we can’t afford that now, or well someday…maybe….” So I let it ride. I stuff it back in my head and think of it no more, cause I’m a right now kind of gal.  Maybe that’s why I have so many headaches. Too many unrealized wishes stuffed in there. My head is going to explode. He says he wants to travel and we will, at some point. Well, it’s been 10 years now and I’m still waiting. ***taps foot, with hand on hip***

camper limo

Now we’re talking

Perhaps I have not made myself clear, to myself or him. When I say travel, I don’t mean some huge herculean effort and a whirlwind exhausting effort to cram eleventy seven activities into a week at an outrageously expensive resort that takes 2 weeks to recuperate from and a year and a half to pay for. I mean hit the road and live on the road at a leisurely pace. This might include mundane things like drinking beer at a laundry mat while waiting for your clothes to dry. Or spending a whole day reading a book in the shade with not a thing on the agenda but relaxing. You can’t do that on a “vacation.”

I want to spend a good part of a summer somewhere in the great northern half of the United States or Canada. Mr. Husband still does not have a passport, just for the record. (10 years later) Why spend an entire summer in Texas where it gets so hot that it melts the cornea off your eyeballs on brief trip from the front door and the mailbox? There is absolutely not one damn thing we need to do that requires us to be here all summer. Everything single thing that Mr. Husband does for his business can be done elsewhere. He could run his entire show from a coffee shop in Shri Lanka if he so chooses.

camper car

hmmm….Maybe not.

But, nOOOooooaOOo, we must remain…in…this…house…because that is what respectable conservative people do…in his reality. Sometimes I feel like a hostage. We have plenty of money right this minute. But almost every last penny of it is committed to the purchase and upkeep of things we don’t need, have no place to store, and services we don’t use.

We have the most expensive Direct TV package that it is possible to have. All the sports add ons. Every movie channel. Do we need that? Hell no. Do we even use it? Again, NO. Any movie worth watching we already saw at the movie theatre and probably have on Blu-ray. The sports channel? Ahem, that’s touchy territory for Mr. Sports fan. But let me tell what really goes on in this house. Hubman turns on the game on the big screen. Then he goes in his office – shuts the door – and listens to the game on the radio while playing on the computer.

Getting rid of the TV package alone would make a payment on an RV. I know, I checked! Then there is the 80 zillion dollar utility bill for the air-con. Granted that is important if you stay in the house for 3 months. What I can’t seem to get through to Mr. Hub is that if you keep the air-con turned down to zizz, it just seems that much hotter when you go outside. 73 degrees inside and 95 degrees outside, that’s a 22 degree change in temperature and it’s a shock to your system. Couple that with his habit of waiting until the last possible millisecond to take a shower so he’s already hot and sweaty before we walk out the door. It’s no wonder we don’t want to go anywhere. He’s hot and nasty and I am hot and have to listen to him complain on top of being hot. Bleh!

Last Christmas and for my birthday he asked “what do you want for your present?” My answer: “an RV.”  He laughs and I get another item of jewelry or a coach purse. I’m not complaining, ok maybe I am, but I’d much rather put that money in savings account to save for what I really want. I WANT AN RV – I WANT IT NOW, or as soon as is humanly possible. No I don’t want a hot tub in the back yard. I want a parking space for my RV. OK, I’ll park it on the hot tub deck if I have to. Hopefully it won’t come to that. I don’t want or need more stuff. I don’t have any place to put it as it stands now.

What to do, what to do. Stay off of amazon.com, start a plan, work on the plan. Take action. Everything I own is going to be put to the test from this point of view. Do I like this enough to cram in the camper and haul it around the country? If the answer is no, out it goes.

8 responses

  1. I’ve had a discussion with my hubby about my unwillingness to look after all this stuff and lifestyle that we have accumulated in 42 year of marriage. He now has a clear understanding about which stuff I will look after, and which stuff he is responsible for. Now that he carries more of the burden, I see he is starting to pitch things.
    We’ve also decided it is time for us to escape the brunt of the Canadian winters. We’re going to get a place in Phoenix, and with that, our timeshares, and our motorcycle we should be able to do a lot of exploring.

    1. What a great idea. I never thought of telling the Hub-man to take care of his own junk. Escaping the Canadian winter to Phoenix is fabulous. You go! Thanks for stopping by 🙂

  2. Get yourself a vacated FEMA trailer next time you’re in Louisiana. Just toured one that’s sitting on the property of my friends’ parents’ place in northern LA. They may not be luxurious but it’s a start! I agree completely on the “so hot that it melts your cornea” business that occurs in our great state in the summer time. I am NOT looking forward to that!

    1. Hmm that’s a thought. Not sure if I want one that big. But it would be interesting to look at one.

  3. My ex and I spent two weeks touring the South Island in a small RV… how the marriage survived another 3 years I will never know… I never felt so trapped, no escape anywhere, any time… First there was the loud music – I love music and I probably like it a bit louder than most people, but he had to have it at nightclub levels all the time, which is not only physically uncomfortable, but completely prevents any conversation from occurring – the best I could possibly manage was a moderate scream to be heard. So there we were driving through the most beautiful scenery in the world, breath-taking, awe-some in the true sense… and all I could hear was deafening rock’n’roll.

    And then there was the farting… yeah… two weeks in a can of farts, again with no where to run… I’d rather breathe mMack Truck exhaust!

    I share your wanderlust, but there is no way in hell I will ever ever ever go anywhere in an RV/campervan ever again!

    1. Holy cow, 2 weeks in a can of farts. Someone could make a comedy/horror movie out that. As for the music…loud noises are a form of torture to me. I would have put my foot or his head through the music machine by the end of the first day. That’s what headphones are for!

  4. Ed Helvey - The Professional Nomad | Reply

    Sounds like Mr. Husband is a perfect example of what Thoreau was talking about when he said, “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.” And, by default, you could replace men with women. Many of us who are single don’t have to concern ourselves with how a spouse (male or female) thinks, feels or acts. We just make a choice “to do.” Unfortunately, even the vast majority of single men and women of all adult ages are still examples of what Thoreau said. It’s scary changing the status quo – I know and so do thousands, well, actually millions of others. Everything in life is about choices. And if we make a choice and it’s not the right choice . . . we get to make another choice. It took a lot of soul searching, overcoming fear and anxiety to make my choice to my Living Free lifestyle. But, now I’m meeting so many others who made it and – what a difference a choice makes. I guess that’s my motivation for the 12 Steps for Living Free I’ve developed. Anyone can choose to change their lives one step at a time. Don’t let your dreams go unrealized too long. As “a woman of a certain age” I know you realize the sands in your hour glass are pouring through. Why not just buy some Nike’s and “Just Do It!” Or better yet, sell all “your stuff” and turn it into an RV and leave Mr. Husband home with the heat, the Direct TV, the radio and the games – and you go to the northern U.S. and Canada, by yourself or with a gal buddy? This ain’t no dress rehearsal.

    Cheers,
    Ed

    1. Eeek, the whole “leading a life of quiet desperation” snuck up on me. And “this ain’t no dress rehearsal” line – I say that to people all the time. It’s time to start practicing what I preach.

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