Kokomo

It's Wednesday morning, and I'm sitting in a Starbucks in Kokomo, Indiana.

Been thinking a lot lately about this job, the one that takes me so far from home.

When I was growing up, I always thought it would be cool to have a job where I'd be spending night after night in a hotel. Mind you, I thought it'd be working for some travel agency as a secret reviewer or some such, visiting hotels undercover to review their services.

If I was in my 20's, this would be a great job. Different cities every other night, life on the road, living out of a suitcase, no family, nothing to hold me down or keep me in one place.

Yet in less than two months, I turn 43. I'm not a kid anymore. I hear my knees pop and crack and feel the years in my bones. I know I'm getting older (let's not go into those old fears now, shall we), and this living on the road thing, while exciting at first, is getting old.

I have a home. I have a family. I have people who love me and care about me (even if they won't admit it, but that's cool). I miss being around them and being over 250 miles from them isn't where I want to be.

Then there's the issue of my car. My old Saturn is getting older and, given my financial situation (more on that at some point...not today) the odds of getting a new or used car is highly unlikely. I put more oil in her than is in the Gulf, I swear, and it seems like new problems pop up every week or so. What can I do? She rolled over 160,000 miles the other day.

This project won't last forever, I know this. Seems like this is gonna be the hardest part right now. This week, Lafayette and Kokomo. Next week, Evansville, IN, over 5 hours from home, and before August ends, I'll be out on the West Coast.

I can't quit (although I almost did yesterday...frustration over work almost had me call my boss and say I was walking away mid-install). It's a paying job and we need the money and I have no other prospects on the horizon. I still apply for jobs on a daily basis, only to hear nothing in return or else get the (rare) rejection letter.

Julie's frustrated as well. She's tired of me being away all week. Last week, she was off for two days, and I was close enough to home that I was able to sneak her away and hide her in the hotel with me. It was so nice, having her there, being able to spend time with her. That was the rarity, however...most of the time she can't come and I can't go home to be with her during the week because I'm just too far away.

I'm tired and I'm frustrated and I'm alone and I'm taking it out here in words because there isn't any other way for me to vent my frustrations.

I want nothing more than to have a job, a simple job, close to home, one that will pay the bills and maybe give us a little cash left over at the end of the week to maybe go see a movie or do something together as a family. I've learned I don't need much out of life. I want to live a simple life where I can sleep in on the weekend a little, spend time with my family and the woman I love.

Right now, I can't do that. I'm on the road, and the road is a cruel mistress. It's a dual-edged sword: Seeing new places, experiencing new things, can be a wonderful thing. I never thought I could say "I'm writing this from Kokomo". I never thought I'd see some of the places I've seen given what I do. There is a bit of an explorer in me, a wanderer (much like a certain character I once created). Despite my frustrations, I'm incredibly thankful for this job, this opportunity.

Yet the road takes me away from where I belong. I hear the call of the road, and I have to answer, with a heavy heart. Sure, I have my music and my laptop and places with free wi-fi and free hotels and breakfast every morning, and...

As I said, if I was a man of 20, of 30, with no obligations or family, this would be perfect for me.

I am not 20. I am not 30. I'm growing older...something I have accepted reluctantly...and this is not where I want to be.

I want to be home.

Comments are disabled for this post. I needed to rant. Thank you for just listening.