The Nomadic Lifestyle

I am a nomad.

I have no home.

Honestly, I have been a nomad for quite some time – always bouncing from one place to another after the divorce.

While place A remained the same for 8 years and place B for 5, it was still a fairly nomadic life – always packing up my stuffed animals to be shipped to the next place. We had a system worked out. The stuffed animals, they were placed on the porch of my mother’s house, and when my grandparent’s would pick us up from Elementary school, they would swing by my mother’s place to get our beloved friends as well. I do not remember how our friends came from my father’s to my mother’s. I guess maybe he would drop them off on the porch after he dropped us off at school. They were always magically there. It would have been tragic if they were not – two very upset little girls over the momentary loss of their stuffed friends.

My stuffed friends still live with me, the very same three that used to live the nomadic life. They don’t move around so much anymore. Well, until now, my stuffed friends and I, we get to be nomads – real nomads. I guess this could be exciting. A friend of mine who is also about to live the nomadic life style entitled it “couch surfing”. I prefer nomad, it sounds much more…rustic. Five days of having no place to really call my own.

Today, I am moving all of my stuff out of the apartment I have lived in for just barely shy of two years. I have a lot of stuff it seems. I accumulated a lot of things in two years. It is funny how much we gather and do not get rid of. I threw a lot of things away. I have nearly thirty textbooks though. I really need to sell those or give them away – I think I may have to give some away in order to get rid of them. However, I will try to sell them first. Anyone need some text books? (ha!). That box is heavy.

It is funny to pack your life into boxes. I should be used to this by now. I think, I lost count, but, I think this is move number fifteen for me (if you include the move into and then subsequently out of the dorm my freshman year in college – it was moving; I believe it counts). However, numbers one through eight I was too young to really be of much use in packing and moving. I guess I am ready to get this show on the road, literally.