U-Haulin' Ass

This morning, I embarked on my daily commute to Miniapple. I checked my gas, oil, mileage, anti-lock breaks, my mirrors. Smiling at myself, bespectacled in sunglasses, I said, "Let's roll."

That's when the U-Haul army flew past and parked themselves at various intervals throughout my entire home to work route. U-Haul is abound every which way today. From my own house to the University area, I was literally dodging movers, U-Haul trailers, U-Haul trucks, 18 year old U-Haulin' ass dude bro's who've only learned how to drive some two years ago. It was like a simulation game for student drivers. Stop, wait for crazy driver, continue, stop wait for novice parallel parker to park correctly, continue, dodge moving garbage on the curb that has since spilled over onto the street, deal with loud frat boy/sorority girl idling in their walking through a crosswalk, etc.

Dinkytown, and the road to it from Northeast, has turned into an apocalyptic wasteland of too much moving. I know that doesn't make sense, but . . . sigh . . .

The house is the same ordeal. It's traumatic having to say goodbye then hello then goodbye, help move friends, say goodbye, work work work. There's no comfort zone of autonomy nor static balance. Everything is off balance. Everything is novel.

Welcome to the Crossroads . . .



Bob Marley and the Wailers -- "Exodus"