SuitcaseI have been living as a nomad for too long. My home has been my suitcase for more than two years. Sure, I have had my home in Southern Illinois and an apartment in Western Kentucky, but I have bopped back and forth between them. I have tried to get grounded and have failed. I have taken a new job (my first 9 to 5 job in a loooooong time). Its in a town I am familiar with but have never lived in. I started last week and it is going great. I haven’t found a place to live yet, but I’m looking.

My best friend is trying to encourage me to put down roots, but I am balking. As much as I am happy being by myself, it would be a lie to say I am not lonely at times. After years of working really, really hard I am tiring of the grind. I’m not complaining, I am so fortunate to get to do a job I love every single day. But I’m ready to slow down a bit. I’m ready to spend time with the people who mean the most to me, I’m ready to sleep past 5:15 a.m., and I’m ready to write my novel.

This new job is short-term, maybe 2-3 years, maybe less. Of course this isn’t long enough to put down roots. Again, I am back to my old habit of being a nomad. But what is it going to take to get me to pick a place, love it, and stay there? My dream would be to be surrounded by the people I love, all at Kentucky Lake. I want to be able to sit on my back deck in the morning and drink coffee, eat a Twinkie and half a pound of bacon, and listen to the water. After breakfast I want to walk to my office, write for a few hours and be able to look out my windows and see kids playing and hear them laughing as the grown-ups supervise. After a productive writing day I want to cook a delicious meal, clean up the mess and then relax on the couch and actually watch TV without my MacBook Pro on my lap. I want to crawl into my king size bed beside the one I love and curl up for a peaceful slumber filled with happy dreams.

Patience. I can still hear you.
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