Where I’ve been and where I’m not going

Yes, I’ve let the blog languish. Again. And that’s ok, things run their course. There’s not been much to report, travel-wise anyway. We’re still in the holding pattern of waiting for our 10 year cards. Small jaunts here and there have happened, friends and family have come and gone. Nothing to write home about, as it were. Except, I went to hell. You know: fire, brimstone, agony, being poked with sharp sticks. The gamut.

In brief, I had a severely pinched nerve in the neck that left me flat on my back in an opium haze, and not in an exotic, orientalist fantasy sort of way. Since then, my life has been one of doctor’s visits and tests, physical therapy and osteopath appointments, canceling numerous travel plans, and admiring our accidental foresight of settling down in a comfortable apartment with plenty of medical services within walking distance.

Instead of feeling claustrophobically tethered to our fixed address and increasing amounts of stuff (what is the opposite of agoraphobia? I have a fear of staying home), I’m grateful that we have both worlds. Travel when we want, comfort when we don’t. So when I could finally move my body again, we went all in on nest-feathering, finally finessing this too-large for us space.

This was not without some distress on my part. We bought a couch, for crissakes. Between our film studio, house, and weekend house, we once owned 17, a fact I share with you with much horror. We bought a chair. And a few more lamps. And some art I actually care about and will feel obliged to keep and take care of. Mark had to frequently reassure me that just because we bought a couch, that didn’t mean we had to stay parked on it. But for now, parked we are. No round-the-world for us this winter, that will have to wait until I’ve forgotten any of this happened.

I don’t mean to imply I’m still in hell. The pain is gone, I’m slowing regaining the strength lost from the nerve compression. I’m dipping my toes into travel planning; not too far, not too strenuous. I’m getting used to the small delights of staying home. And the 18th couch is very nice.

Cheers,

Maer