I've been accused of being contrary (actually nowadays we more often use that term when referring to Rachel, but the apple doesn't fall far from the tree).Anyone who has experienced my contrariness might get some measure of satisfaction from knowing that I also subject myself to my contrary streak.
Oftentimes, I engage, as I suspect many of us do, in the lottery fantasy. You know, what specifically I would do if I won the kazillion dollar lottery.
Since I live in an area where free market homes cost at least half a kazillion dollars, my fantasies often involve blowing the bulk of the winnings on a freemarket house here in town.
Yesterday, as I was driving downvalley, I was engaging in this little daydream, brought on by passing many new homes in the midst of construction. It wasn't very long before my contrary streak started taking over.
I can't win the lottery because I never want to move again.
Let me be clear, I never want to go through the moving process again. I never want to have to pack up all my shit, schlep it (even across the street), unpack it all and figure out where it should live.
I like my house plenty well but it's far from perfect. So it's not that I want to stay here so badly (again, it's a sweet deal but it's employee housing so is small and has no investment potential in a town where free market housing has oodles of investment potential).
As I was doing the daydreamin' thing, I tried to solve my problem by hiring movers. Sparing no expense to hire movers who would come into my house while I was on my round the world trip (bought by my kazillions of lottery winnings) and pack up every last thing in my house, move it all to my new mansion and, and, and . . .
Ah, therein lies the rub. While I'm sure I could certainly pay someone to unpack my stuff, that wouldn't work. I need to put my stuff where I want it. There's just no getting around the fact that I would have to at the very least oversee the unpacking and putting away process.
Ughh.
I can't stay in employee housing if I don't work 9 months of the year in Pitkin County. If I win the kazillion dollar lottery, I doubt I'm going to want to do that. So, if I win the kazillion dollar lottery, I have to move. I don't want to move.
Such a dilemma.
So you see, I'm screwed by my own contrariness. I suspect there are at least a few of you laughing at me right now.
1 comment:
I too hate moving. Part of why I stay where I am, a tiny dorm room, is that I look around it and think, "Yes, I could be out of here in a day." I try to keep my belongings there to a minimum, which is easy since the shopping in Korea isn't great. I'm not enticed by catalogs, Crate & Barrel stores, etc.
A friend is in the process of moving from an apartment to a rental home, which seems like a temporary move till there's enough of a savings to get her own house with her husband. If it were me, at this point in time, I'd make that apartment (that they moved into last year) work and I'd save like crazy to get myself into something far more permanent. To be packing up stuff and know that in a year or two I'd be doing so again would be torture.
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