OK, So I Lied
I didn't see you Monday, and I am sure that your suffering was immense. Unlike some people, I am not a creature of habit. That means that occasionally I just don't write anything. It also means that I don't have a huge collection of random crap and a year's supply of my favorite shampoo in the basement, so it's actually not a bad thing.
The weekend's attempt at building the sidepod resulted in a brief fight with the laws of physics, which I lost. I was, unfortunately, unable to acquire a small TARDIS to strap to my trike's rear rack, which means that I can only fit as much stuff into the box as there is space inside the box. Despite my best efforts, there just wasn't enough room to reliably mount two sealed-lead acid batteries, a charge controller, a DC-DC converter, a cellular amplifier, and a mess o' switches, sockets, and wiring. So, I had the design team taken out back and shot. Then I ordered one of these, in blue. With a bit of mucking about and the careful application of hammers, it should do the trick. It's more stylish, and it has a lock on it. It was also nowhere to be found when I Googled "scooter trunk" last month, otherwise I'd already have one.
Other than a longer ride with about 65% of full touring weight in the trailer, the weekend was unremarkable, except for the pall of incipient change clinging to everything. Soon the house will be ours no longer, and Bob the Cat will be wondering why she can't go outside where all the yummy grass and crunchy moles are. Julep the Cat will be undergoing her first major life crisis since the Cardboard Cat Carrier Incident. Pea will be in a new apartment doing new apartment things, and, if all goes well, I will be hurtling downhill at 50mph yelling something about bats.
This order of change, I think, is usually a point-A-to-point-B affair. Sell dwelling, move to new dwelling, quit job, get new job, destroy Death Star, form new non-evil intergalactic government, no big deal. What's giving me this delightful frisson of excitement-bordering-on-panic is that I'm leaping from point A to point x, point x being the Life's Algebra variable for no frickin' idea what's next.
But it's not the sort of uncertainty that comes from being out of control or smacked upside the head, it's the uncertainty of adventure and enterprise. I'm guessing that the only way to find out whether that's something you actually want more of in your life -- as opposed to just thinking you want more of it -- is to go out and do it.
I'll have to get back to you on whether those are pithy words to live by or evidence of creeping lunacy.
