Well, that didn’t work.

Taking up from my previous entry: I got the junk removed, the last pieces of things that friends wanted were taken up by them, and I repaired to a local hotel. I discovered that the hotel’s idea of ‘handicapped accessible’ was not what mine was, but I was too tired to bother with trying to get another room, and it’s not the first time I’ve cleansed myself via the bathroom sink.

The following day, I canceled the phone/internet by dropping off their boxes, and dropped off the apartment keys, returning to the same hotel for a desperately needed day and night of pure rest. Then in the morning it was to begin the 1,200 mile journey.

Lessons learned in the trip: check that the city you plan to just grab a hotel room in, without a prior reservation, is not having a college football game against their close rivals that day, or all the hotels will be booked up. Yes, even the fleabag ones. I managed to get to the next city, and spent the night in a place where I was sure I was going to be killed. Apparently I was considered unsporting prey by the local roustabouts, and was permitted to live.

Getting trapped on a highway for 3 hours, not moving, due to a fatal accident ahead which of course must be ‘investigated’ before reopening the highway, is an exercise in frustration. I will spare the sensitive Mythical Readers the details, but I will state that urination required creativity and a certain disregard for possibly ending up the start of a viral video.

But finally I made it back to my childhood home.

To discover things amiss. Details were not as portrayed. There was no working shower downstairs. There was no working refrigerator downstairs. The house was starting to be in a state of disrepair. And the upstairs bathroom was… again I refrain from details. Suffice it to say, I am now not sitting in my childhood home, because with my physical problems I can’t live there with those conditions. Instead I am sitting in my other sister’s home.

There are other family related details that I will not put into print, but they are complicating factors indeed.

I hope one day to be able to help fix the problems with the home. I do not know if I will stay at my sister’s or get my own apartment somewhere. I know nothing. I, a massive homebody, am now nearly a vagabond. I do not like this.

I have noticed the universe giving not a fig for what I do or do not like, though.