The swamp cooler is working overtime in this heat wave, and I know a little something about heat since I’m living in the desert once again.
It’s the High Desert, this time. The Colorado Plateau, specifically.
On Friday the 13th, of May, I finished the slow but gorgeous drive over the Rockies, pulled gently into my parking spot at this building where I work now, and went to two back to back meetings before going out to eat at Kannah Creek Brewery.
(That second photo is from yesterday, but it’s the thought that counts.)
Nearly one month, two Airbnbs, and three hotels later, on June 7, I finally completely unloaded my car and rolled my camping pad out on the floor of my new apartment, pictured below.
The apartment is equidistant from and very nearby both the office and the brewery.
What was I doing that whole month?
That’s the Uncompahgre River, which I visited during my Memorial Day Weekend in Ouray. On my way home to Grand Junction, I stopped at Black Canyon of the Gunnison NP, the last hurrah for my 2015-2016 NP pass.
Not too shabby.
I was deliriously happy on June 22, when my stuff arrived.
A month later, I have about half of my tubs unpacked.
WHAT!? TIFFANY WHY????
I’ve been working.
Yes, that’s right. The five previous photos are all from my job. I’ve hit the jackpot, and anyone who has ever tried to hit a jackpot knows that winning big is rare, special, and to be savored!
Then, like a boss and as if I needed one…
…I took a vacation.
Check back later for a possible Windmill Series.
WHATEVER TIFFANY WHEN WILL YOU FINISH UNPACKING?
I know about four people who left where they were after I did, arrived to their new homes, and have already unpacked.
I’m still working.
And I’m still exploring.
Five days ago, I finally got Internet service and started thinking about this blog post.
In three days, a cohort of 25 Proyecta 100,000 students arrives and shortly thereafter, a Japanese high schooler for private lessons.
It’s also the August Poetry Postcard Fest. This year, I’m in group 7. Which means that I need to go write a poem on a postcard.
I’m allowing myself until October to completely settle in. After that, I never want to move across the country ever again. Mark that on your calendars.
Now I’ve violated my own never-say-what-you-don’t-want superstition.
It amuses me, the comments I get when I post things on social media. “Oh, it must be so fun to travel!”
This isn’t travel, kiddos. This is my everyday life. Ain’t nobody gettin any younger (especially my mom – her birthday is Wednesday), and maybe now it will calm down for a bit.
In the meantime, #YOLO in #COLO.
Composed entirely with my thumbs, this post is optimized for mobile reading. Shortly after posting, I’ll check it in a full-size browser, resize the giant photos for you and toss in a few hyperlinks.
If you’re one of my compatriots who is in the midst of relocation, take heart. You’re not alone.