This blog is about the actual journey There.  It starts usually on Thursday when I  pack and check the red shopping bag I keep hanging on a chair in the living room.  During the week I fill it with the things for the house that I don’t want to forget – a few extra groceries, my casino cards, some photographs to paint from.  Then I pack my clothes, all casual and comfortable.  I use a yarn duffel bag that I bought years ago at a street fair.  It holds alot but is very light.  Thursday nights I usually dream of painting or the ocean.

Friday at work I am in a good mood as I think about my release, my sanity just hours away.  Then, as I leave the office and wish everyone a good weekend, I find myself smiling because I know my weekend is always a mini-vacation.  I pray for light traffic, a prayer which is rarely answered and as I run for my Sante Fe in the parking deck, I call R and try to get him to be ready when I arrive, so all I have to do is make a quick pit stop, load the Fe and leave within 10 minutes.   Another prayer rarely answered but R doesn’t waste time.  He makes us sandwiches so we don’t have to stop, he makes sure everything is locked up and turned off and he is very efficient.  We leave as soon as possible. 

I am driving this Friday night as it is summer and day light savings time right now.  I will probably only be able to drive another 2 or 3 weeks as the days get shorter and my night blindness interferes.  Except for the 10-12 week period when I can drive on Friday night, I grit my teeth or try to sleep when R drives.  His driving is not that bad, I’m just a control freak.   There, I said it.

But for now, I’m driving and as I start to pull away, I coast slowly through our development and say, “do you have your wallet……. your money……..your cards…….. your cell phone………. your keys?” with each question prompting a pat down of all his pockets as I try not to laugh.  As he checks for vital belongings in a deliberate but slightly frantic manner, I keep my eyes on the road, ever mindful that I may need to make a quick U-turn to retrieve the forgotten item. 

Once everything has been located and we are out of the complex and on our way, I mentally say good-bye to the stress of  Here.  Goodbye crazy russian neighbors who live above us and whose daughter thinks she’s a kangaroo.  Goodbye window that needs fixing and carpet that needs cleaning.  Goodbye crazy, and somewhat needy family members who know not to call unless someone is in the hospital, in jail or dead…. no, really… that’s what I have told them all.   Goodbye to commuting, to the five and a half attorneys that I support in that God-forsaken City of New York. 

I’m on my way There.

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