Family Week

Where I Live -- For the Moment

I took off from work today. I've been doing this randomly lately out of extreme anxiety. My fear is about the near future when a large moving van takes up half the street during a busy tourist season to cart my belongings over town lines. There are many problem scenarios rattling around in my brain.

I live in the middle of Provincetown, a unique, quirky, theme-filled place with narrow streets, houses nipping at each other's shingles, uneven brick sidewalks that can't contain the throngs that roam them. Picture one of the video shots of Beijing with the mobs of pedestrians, the bicycles, the taxis, right down to the rickshaws. Throw in a trolley and cops on Segways and you have my little town. 3 miles long and 3,000 year round residents. Summer comes and we're looking at 60,000 people a day.

Now picture an 18 wheeler trying to maneuver through this. It requires renting police officers to oversee the ordeal. An 18 wheeler set in one place on this street, the main street, could stop production of meals in over 60 restaurants because the food purveyors can't get through with the day's goods. And everyone will know I caused the loss of thousands of dollars income that was going to help them survive the wickedly cold, desolate, gray winter.

Fortunately, it's family week now. And I don't have to worry about my semi running over anyone in a stroller or wearing balloon hats that don't resemble animals, though the guy sitting in front of town hall who makes these confections thinks he's a wizard at it. No, what I have to worry about is two weeks from now. Two small weeks. Now really less than 14 days. That is when Carnival Week is held. Carnival Week, free beads, lots of body parts showing, lots of floats, and one day when an estimated 100,000 people stand in the streets, hang from balconies and rooftops, and garner choice seats in the front windows of restaurants to watch a slow extravaganza. Carnival. My nemesis week. My moving week.

Why am I doing this now? Let's say it's time to move on. Let's say someone doesn't love you anymore and you need to git along little doggie. Let's say someone bought you out. Let's say you just need it to be over.

So I took the day off. I am surrounded by 44 boxes filled with books, crystal, and china. And I haven't scratched the surface of packing. And I can't give the mover an estimate on the number of boxes because I can't imagine how much more I have to do...alone...during the busiest work time of the year.

On a happier note, I'm enjoying a particularly good relationship with Lilly Pharmaceuticals. In the coming days, when I have a spare moment, I will be posting photos of objects that I should or should not take with me. Coming from a family of packrats, I can't tell anymore what I should pack and what I should leave behind. Admittedly, I've packed too much already. Feel free to be harsh and tell me to get rid of things. Like that carton of Everyday Foods that I already packed, or the issues of Martha Stewart Living carefully placed in matching blue magazine holders.

In my mind, my future has a spartan, antique Swedish aesthetic to it. So far, it doesn't look hopeful.