Thursday, 29 April 2010

Living reflection from a dream.

This afternoon I have resorted to snorting coffee off the table in rows and pinching myself until I yelp involuntarily just to stay awake. Not sure if it's the anxiety that makes me want to curl up and sleep or the exhaustion of this adventure. Either way when I do finally lie down beside Ben late at night my eyes blow open like the doors on the fire station after five alarms and I remain like that, watching the city, for hours until eventually they close. Usually against the sun because it's very bright first thing in the morning.

Tonight is our last night in the city-proper and maybe that will help. Maybe it's the loveliness of the view. Maybe it's the noise. Maybe traffic. Construction. Density. Hell, maybe it's the fumes from the seven dozen different Starbucks and Blenz stores that dot the downtown like raindrops.

I should maybe switch to tea but Jake tried that already and all I did was sip it like a proper lady and every single time I would ask him if it was supposed to taste all canny and weird and hot-watery like this and he would sigh and offer me milk and sugar and I'd wrinkle up my nose until it was halfway up my face and point out that the last thing a hardcore princess needs is sugar. Or milk for that matter.


I have pulled our things together and what a nightmare. Fourteen pieces of luggage because there are seven of us. Some are small pieces like backpacks and some are very large and heavy rolling hockey bags and I'm a little concerned now that it won't fit in my car but really we'll figure it out. Not like it all needs to fit in the trunk of a taxi to go to the airport in a hurry. I foresee an hour or two tomorrow in which we simply heave and squish the bags into different combinations to see what works. I foresee a very uncomfortable ride out into the mountains.

I'm rather glad I didn't embark on the crazy shopping trips I was offered. And I'm glad I deferred when we stopped at IKEA (three times) because really we travel incredibly light for a month on the road stretched across three seasons and four provinces, pets included.

So kiss my ass because everyone else offered this adventure basically said no, because it seems impossible so it must be.

It isn't.

You just need to be adventurous and step outside of your comfort zone and trust me, if I can do that, anyone can. In fact, I grew tired and wandered away from my old comfort zone in error and never found the darned thing again but Ben here, well, he promised he would just build me a new one.

And I'm holding him to that.

I'm also holding him to the promises that yes, all this shit will fit in the car and that someday I definitely will sleep. And maybe even breathe. Which means it must be a custom-fit comfort zone complete with nerve gas piped in.

I hope it has a coffee maker.

And a bed.

And a bowl of tangerines.