Lin, a good bloggy friend of mine, always has a joke about running away from home. Since the first time we mentioned this she and I have talked about being hobos. On Saturday night - quite abruptly - I packed up a few things, jumped in my van and drove about 90 minutes to my best friend’s home. Luckily we have an open-door policy for each other, but he immediately knew something was wrong when I showed up at his job to get keys.
I guess the reasons for my leaving are not important, but I’m glad I did. The part I hate? Having to get back in my van and drive home. Not only are there a bunch of domestic chores that need to be handled, but I’m walking back into what I believe caused me to leave: there’s no one there.
Now I must explain that the cause and reasons are two different things… I’m happy for my brief reprieve from the sounds that reverberate in my head, but I must go home to greet my children in the morning when they return from their weekend with dad and get my house in order. In the process, I’m getting my mind and life together – again. I know it’s all so cryptic. It normally happens that way when I hold so much inside for so long.
Although I still haven’t been sleeping well because of stress and mental anguish, I am confident that I can get back on track. I’m still waiting for Lin to give me the signal for that long train-traveling, marshmallow-roasting, kerchief- and daisy duke-wearing, hobo trip, but – in the meantime – you’ll find me here being mom and blogger.
8 folks a chattin':
Big hugs!
Awwwww the contradictions of motherhood, we need the break but miss them so much when they're gone it's unbelievable. Hope you at least got a bit of something good from your time.
Also hope you're having a nice Memorial Day.
I might run away with you.
Oh, please stay! ;)
big hugs to you... I used to run away when my kids were younger too. There was a convent near by that rented rooms cheap!
Aw, pally, I think hobos have a tough life too, you know? All that livin' under the stars and eating beans out of a can can be tough too. While the dream looks ideal, the reality is that it rains sometimes and tents leak. Beans out of a can still cause gas and there isn't enough fresh air sometimes to air out one's sleeping bag.
I guess what I am saying it that you have to walk away for a bit, but then we all have to come home too. And while the road sounds like a great life, sometimes (most times) home is where we should be, for running away isn't all that it is cracked up to be. Remember Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz?
Hang in there, hobo friend. This too shall pass.
I feel like running away sometimes to. Usually it's from work. I work around two guys that talk to each other and hardly ever do they talk to me. I guess I don't blame them because I am a lot younger then them, and I keep to myself.
I hope you get through your stress! Being an adult isn't always fun. I sometimes wish I could go back to playing with dolls and barbies. The simple life. A life where tasks were easy.
running away sounds like fun to me! I'd find a hut in a forest and hunker down for a bit...maybe I'd go back eventually ;)
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