Yesterday unfolded with so little potential for success but so little actual error that I find myself astounded twenty-four hours later. True: I forgot a coffee date and didn’t make it to the cemetery. Otherwise, I managed to gift a rocking chair (one less item in storage), turn the coffee into lunch, ignite my enthusiasm at a board meeting, and engaged in not one but two lively conversations before falling into a dead sleep which lasted until morning. A perfect Saturday concluded by awakening to Sunday’s gentle dawn.
I couldn’t continue this relentless pace for very long. But a handful of days has allowed me to touch base with most of my closest friends. I have one day left to me. I’m already trying to figure out how to get from the rental car building to curb-side checking tomorrow. I’ll be toting two suitcases, one of which contains a little bench, a footstool, two new angels, leather boots, and a suit that I had loaned my friend Kimberley which she returned when I visited her yesterday. The suitcase itself came from a thrift store. I arrived with only one, holding my clothes and medication. I planned this expansion of my luggage, intending to see what I could get back to California by hook or by crook.
Little remains to transfer to the west coast, though the storage unit still contains a hodge-podge of boxes, lamps, and bathroom paraphernalia in a series of cleverly marked boxes. (“Bathroom 1, Bathroom 2. . .). I didn’t find the missing papers, but I discovered that an assortment of presents had been returned to me, adding another layer of irony to my tiny life. It’s no matter. All the baggage and bagatelle will find its way to new hands. I believe in paying forward, in rewarding smallness with a great breadth of generosity to wash away the lingering after-taste of people’s pettiness. On my next visit to Kansas City, I’ll cull out more donations. I should be done with the lot by summer, and my transformation to California Dreamer will be complete. I’m looking forward to that, despite the strength of my affection for the people here.
It’s the fourth day of the fifty-first month of My Year Without Complaining. Life continues.
