Homeward Bound

by

I e-mailed an environmental bed and breakfast yesterday in Wisconsin yesterday that just opened in May and found out that they have an opening for  me when I go back to Wisconsin in July.

What?  Dude, that’s next month.  Fuck, that’s this like in a few days.  Oh my god.

It is in Token Creek.  Had you told me a few years back that a. I would even consider going back for my high school class reunion or b.  that I would be staying at a bed and breakfast in Token Creek; I would have told you to load up another crack rock.

But it is really true.

Granted, I have yet to book the room, I am waiting until I get paid and pay my rent for July, but I have officially decided to splurge.

The lesson I learned going to LA this past weekend was this: do not compromise on your sleep or your accommodations, it will make you or break you.

I have always been rather frugally minded.  Well, to a point, there have been more than one occasion when I decided to buy something else other than food.  C’mon if I get that gram of cocaine, I won’t need food.  Maybe just cab fare to get back to my dealer when it’s gone and a pack of smokes.

But over the last six and a half years I have prioritized a little.  Like I buy groceries and pay rent and get myself new socks when I need them and I totally splurge on body lotion. Shit, I pay like $13  for a tube of %100 Pure coconut body lotion.  It smells like a virgin sacrifice to a volcano god.  It is so good and it only lasts me like, a week and a half, two if I don’t shower a lot in fourteen days.  But I must have it.

However, I have been rather tight with my money in other areas, especially travel.  So, I am going to “splurge”.  It’s not much of a splurge, but it is a bit of one.  I am going to pay twice as much as I could to stay some where.  Further, I am not looking to stay with friends.  I have not asked.  Nor have I sought to manipulate.

Now, this is fucking progress, Batman.

My normal M.O. is to be so worried about money that I have to stay with someone to offset what ever financial insecurity I have about having booked the trip in the first place.  I have slept on floors, in attics, on couches, back yards, in campers surrounded by dog shit, on borrowed sleeping bags, in tents, in poorly ventilated rooms, and in play rooms for the people I work for.  I have had to share bathrooms with people I normally would not even say hello to on the street, let alone want to leave a toothbrush on their sink.  I have put myself in really compromising positions to save some money.

Well, fuck that noise.

I am done with it.  I decided I want a nice place to stay.  It does not have to be über fabulous and totally out of my price range–hello Mansion Hill Inn–but it can be nice, and it can be my own room, and it can have some amenities.

And since I do a spending plan every month and know how much I have coming in and going out, I know I can afford this.  And really, when it comes right down to it, it is not a splurge.  It is keeping my sanity.  I want to be well rested and fresh.  I want to stay where I want to stay.

I want to stay in a place that is located just outside of Madison.  I want to be in the country.  I want to be minutes away from where I spent some of the most formative years of my life.  I want to go for a walk along the creek.  I want to take a nap in the hammock that will be outside my room underneath an oak tree.  I want to sleep on nice sheets and get up to go to the bathroom naked, because that’s how I sleep.  I want to not be on anyone elses schedule but my own.

That is not to say that I won’t be packing my time in tight in Madison.  I have people to see and places to go.  But I will be taking a little time for me.  I will make sure that I get to do some things that I would not have the opportunity of doing if I am at the whim of another’s schedule because I am their house guest.  I am not sleeping on the floor, on the couch, or at a crappy motel by East Town Mall.

I want to wake up to the smell of high summer in Wisconsin.  I want to see lightning bugs flit through the meadow grass while I listen to the horses knicker to themselves as they settle down for sleep.  I want to smell the air, warm and fragrant with lilac and summer blooming roses.  I want the full Wisconsin country side experience, even if I am there for just a short time.  Particularly, because I am there for such a short time.

I do once in a while fantasize about moving back to Wisconsin.  And I want to emphasize “fantasize”.  I don’t have any real plans to do so.  San Francisco is my home sweet home, but my soul was born in Windsor, Wisconsin, and some times one has to make that journey back to feed the head waters of that spring.

And I am renting a car.  No being at the mercy of somebody who doesn’t know how to get to Hwy 51.

It’s kind of like knowing how to get to Sesame Street, but you make a right instead of a left.

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