Of What I Do Not Do Well: Big Tries to Move

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For the last four years, I’ve spent my days doing things that I like, that I have some level of aptitude. Graduate school, teaching and family meant I cut out all the extraneous details that can fill a day, things like driving and dealing with utility companies. I pay my bills online, and I found there are few places I can’t get by bike. The last four years have made me smile.

Enter the last two weeks. Circumstances filled every day with things I do not do well. We moved. I’m 22 weeks pregnant. My bike has a flat tire and my husband is too harassed to fix it. (Yes, I should learn to fix my own bike tires. Soon.) Moving meant my person was required at various utility companies and being put on hold with various internet providers. Normal people can probably get the lights on, the gas pumping and the water flowing in one try. I am not a normal person, nor am I good at details, like having the exactly right paper in my hand after waiting in line for forty-five minutes. The good clerks would patiently explain they had a system. I was not following the system. My eyes would well up because I am pregnant, prone to eye overflow, and perhaps, in slight hope, they would take pity on me. They did not, and I would drive my pitiful self back across town in search of the right paper (which was always a different paper). I would like to blame someone for this, but the truth is I have always and will probably always suck at the details of life (like driving, electricity and such). This is why I like camping.

In spite of my lack as a fully functioning adult, here I sit in my much larger house with electric, water, gas and a wireless signal. Tomorrow, I am promised a patched tire.

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