the gears are grinding

my daily routine, my nightly activities, my weekend chores, all of it seems cloudy and a bit intangible lately. i’m going through the motions as a resident of a bitterly cold-stricken and powdery white chicago, pretending to just be (because truthfully, that’s all i ever want, is to just be), but generally loathing most of it. the summers—and in this year’s case, the three weeks of allegedly hot weather—move in and out like holiday shoppers in revolving doors. then these winters linger around like inconsiderate houseguests, not knowing when the welcome has been worn out. (pardon the holiday metaphors—it’s that time of year.)

part of it is that i’m getting older and less tolerant of frigid wind chills and trudging through snow piles. i can only buy and layer on so much wool before the idea of leaving the house is just a ridiculous notion. another part is that my lifestyle (one of activeness and two-wheeled enjoyment) is being seriously compromised and impeding on otherwise jubilant moods. and i can assure you that our loving pup could do without donning a silly jacket and pooping outside in subzero temperatures.

but mostly, i don’t think i’ve truly considered chicago my home. i never intended to last more than four years, so obviously there is some staying power as i enter my ninth year. sure, this city has some greatness, but its sprawl and high sales taxes and traffic and public transit issues to name a few are too draining to ignore. in fact, it dawned on me today that i don’t think i disliked st. louis, my former home, this much before i vacated the premises. when i made that move, i was just bored with STL, needed a change of scenery and influenced by departing friends off to find new homes. and not to mention, i was coming off a six-month residence in london, a true metropolitan that i fell in love with and knew STL could never compete. chicago was the midwest’s answer to that. but that answer has now become a problem.

my perfect destination would be a little stars hollow on a warm coast somewhere. sadly, the closest thing i have to this is key west, but hurricanes and the one-way-in/one-way-out aspect is a bit too daunting for full-time living. i suppose if i could have the perfect utopia, i would have two homes—one here for three months and another, perhaps in key west, the other nine months. but really, where is the necessary cash flow going to come from to tackle that endeavor?

i’m not proclaiming anything here or dispelling any myths at this time, but know that the gears are grinding yet again. and this annual occurrence seems to be a force of some sort. perhaps this time around we will actually listen.

19 December 2008