Here’s where it all goes down hill.

I have a theory about the post-Halloween weather in the Northeast.  Here on the coast, once the candy has been gobbled up and the costumes put away, the weather seems to take a turn for the worst.

 Rapidly.

My Daughter’s brithday falls in early November.  Ever since she was old enough to have birthday parties, we’ve had Indian Summer-like weather around her birthday, so her parties were always held outdoors.  I never thought leaf diving was a traditional party game, but we turned it into one.

  But after that glorious splash of warmth, the temperature takes a dive and the chill in the air is more than just chilly.  It’s cold, and it’s worse if it rains.  Autumn rain is the worst because it is so cold.  The sole purpose of an autumn rain is to bring down the remaining leaves on the trees.

This has been a good year for wanderlust.  I haven’t acted on the urges yet and I know I should.  Considering all the emotional maelstrom I’ve put myself through, you think I would get away more often.  That would be a correct assumption.  Lately, though, I’ve been questioning this wanderlust.

When does wanderlust and the desire for a change of scenery get misinterpreted for avoiding reality?

There have been plenty of times I’ve wanted to get outta Dodge, but I seem to find excuses not to.  Is it necessary for my wellbeing to hit the road every so often?  Hell, yeah!  So…. WHY NOT?  Good question, gentle reader.  Why do I find reasons NOT to do anything instead of creating solutions to help me achieve my goal? 

That’s two questions- both of them valid and complimentary. 

I say shit or get off the pot.  Just go.  Create possibilities instead of building barriers.

Here are some places I’ve thought about:

1.  My sister’s in Massachusetts.  She and her husband are empty nesters, sort of.  My nephew is at the Massachusetts Police Academy.  My youngest neice is at school in Fitchburg.  Her older sister has two years of college under her belt but, for reasons not yet explained, she opted for coming home and working in her father’s small-town law practice.  I haven’t seen for since the end of May, just before My Love and I parted ways.

2.  My parent’s house…again.  No.  Dad and I had an argument about my financial situation.  He is afraid I’m going to fall through the cracks.  For years he’s been pushing the real estate game on me, put I’m not playing.  Things need to cool down before I drop in again.

3.  No place in particular.  It’s always a good third option.  I’ve thought about driving to Boston, Quebec City,  and New York City.  I’ve thought about pulling out the ol’ Rand McNally, close my eyes and drop the finger at random.  Where the finger goes, the rest of me shall follow.

Would somebody give a good shove to get me started?