I know I will be moving into my new home this week. It’s only a matter of bureaucracy – if you can spell that word without spellcheck, you’re a better man than I, Gunga Din – but there’s a tendency, temptation, a need (almost) to be on tenterhooks.
My view/offer hit rate is good. Five views/three offers, but this is the one that I want, oooh oooh oooh, honey.
It’s a bachelor pad. Technically, I’m not sure I qualify as a bachelor, but there are other technicalities that I have to address. I am no longer El Vagabundo. A vagabond by definition is someone who wanders from place to place and doesn’t have a home. It feels like there’s a light inside that’s flickering and about to go out and I am to take my place is a little box where I can age (even more) and ultimately draw my last breath, screaming out YOU CAN TAKE MY HONDA, BUT YOU CAN NEVER TAKE MY FREEDOMMMMMM!!!!
I’m hoping to come up with a good title for my next book. I was thinking – 840 nights in a car – but I think something better will pop into my head. I got the titles for Four Wheels and a Pillow and Infelicitous from the St. Maelruan’s Park Facebook page. My friend, Leona, who is a Native American Indian from the Lakota tribe calls me Michael Four Wheels.
I’m not going to need my car as much. It’s okay, Esperanza is parked in a nearby carpark and can’t hear me. This is good. If I don’t drive her as much, then she’s last longer. It would break my heart to end our relationship and if you think I’ve gone a bit mad speaking about my relationship with my car, well, if you slept in your car for 840 nights, you’d know how I feel. Espe kept me from going insane, and here’s the first one of the blog … LOL. It could be the first one of the day.
An ambulance screamed by as I crossed the road to Aldi this morning. I was in such a bad way in my ambulance that they met up with a more experienced medic on the way to the hospital. I don’t think about him too much and give most of the credit to Dr. Colm Kirby, but really there was a team involved.
I don’t think I will ever lose the feeling that I am lucky to be alive.
When I move into my new home, I am going to position the table in front of the window. It will be a table of many uses, but I’m going to think of it as my writing table. There’s a large window and it’s a very bright apartment, and now the tenterhooks feeling is coming back.
Who’d a thunk … not moving could be so stressful.