Living Far Away
You guys. I don't really live "far away."
Only my mom can say that, and not because she's my mom and would prefer me to live next door. I am, in fact, 1,600 miles away from my momma bird. I spread my wings and left that nest many moons ago (it was a good nest, Mom!).
So living a few extra miles away from a decent grocery store and having to drive 20 minutes (heaven forbid) to enjoy the perks of city living isn't "far away." Inconvenient? Maybe. I live in the city of Jacksonville where residents don't like to cross a bridge because the other side is too "far away."
Le sigh. But I do lament with my tongue in cheek. There are certainly obstacles to living "far away."
- As one to enjoy a glass of wine or three, I've had to make sacrifices. Uber is fine, but when it's 1:00 am and the Uber man is driving down the darkest and loneliest road on the edge of Jacksonville, I tend to think that said Uber man might assume that he's about to be slaughtered a la Texas Chainsaw Massacre. So I've been a sober Sally lately.
- Nothing else.
And here are the pros to living "far away."
- I'm more purposeful when I head "into town" to do my lady errands. I used to skip to my car to drive to the Target that was four minutes away from my "city home." Just because I needed some dog bones and Raisinets, you know? (Read: dog bones are crucial when your dogs are accustomed to a certain lifestyle. Also read: don't be a pushover and bow to your dogs' whims. It's too late for me and mine). But now I'm a serious shopper with a list and the focus of a doomsday prepper. Because really, if I don't have to leave the farm for many days in a row, that's mighty fine with me.
- People think I live "far away." It's a swell excuse for when I'm running late.
- I am an introvert. That is all.
Photo by Kristen Penoyer | Artwork by Lindsay Meyer