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My Hobo Month

Here is who I am.  I have had the same bed, dresser, vanity since I was 6 years old.  I like stability.  I like to know where I’m going to be in a year…or even a week.  This is why its perplexing that I have become a hobo.  I don’t know know exactly what happened.  One day everything had a place. My extra buttons had a tin.  My towels were neatly stacked.  My old journal calendars were neatly stored to be examined at a moment’s notice.  But then one day; everything changed.

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I spent an entire month living out of three bags and staying at friend’s houses.  It started out as just staying with my friend whose husband was in another state for work.  That turned into a week…and then another week.  As quick as a season change it had been a month since I had slept in my regular bed.

And I discovered something about myself.  I like moving.  I want change.  So as I sit in this coffee shop–outside I have 4 bags in my trunk.  And it feels…good.  I know that soon I’ll take my bags and reorganize them into my bins, Tupperware, boxes and organizers but something in me has changed.  I’m leaving.  I’m not going to stare at the same four walls in safety.  Its time for change.  And maybe my hobo month was practice and kicked me out of the nest to learn about that different side of myself-that is hungry for movement.

 

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