We take today as a day off.
Since Sunday last week, we have been on the move non-stop. As good North Americans, we aren’t used to walking long distances. And walking is what we’ve done since leaving Doubtless Bay. Our hips and our feet are not as well lubricated as when we were younger, and they are complaining…loudly. Despite which, we end up walking a good distance today. We are gradually adjusting to living in hotels (although the first two weeks were actually not lived in hotels – they were lived with family and friends) – this is our life for the next 12 months. One of the biggest challenges is the lack of space – we are living in one room for the next year. The worst is early in the morning before Greg wakes. At home I could get up and make coffee. Here that is not an option, and so I read by flashlight. I am burning through the batteries.
I feel like Eloise, who lived in the Plaza Hotel, apparently without parents, but with unlimited access to maids and butlers and nannies. Whoever pays Eloise’s bills isn’t paying ours, unfortunately…so we have our first visit to the Launderette (Greg bought lots and lots of undies in LA). We aren’t about to make the mistake we made in Florence a couple of years ago, where we splurged and had our undies and jeans laundered for us at our hotel, for about $150. When we get to the launderette, however, we find that we have brought the wrong coins and that it is unattended – and so it takes quite awhile to get going: 2 walks to the LiquorMart, about ½ kilometre each way, before we get it right (make of that statement what you will).
Beyond Vacation: Just Like Eloise
Life has passed beyond the sense that we are on vacation – a vacation would have ended by now. And we are into a totally new experience for us, without any set routines. Every day we get up and we ask “what are we going to do today?” And the answer is unframed by either yesterday or tomorrow. Today is only about today. Our sense of time has begun to shift – the days feel longer than they have since we were kids, and we imagine, just like Eloise. I wonder if this is because our days are so unstructured; but I also wonder whether some element of this feeling is because we have, in some ways, reverted to a type of 2nd childhood, without the normal adult responsibilities – no house, no car, no mortgage, no debts, no bills, and no jobs. Just like Eloise.