Time for another reality check.
Ten years ago, Jim and I moved to Eureka on a whim. I knew it was rainy there, but I thought I could tolerate it, because I’d lived in San Francisco. But after a while, the rain forest was getting to me. The endless cold gray days, coastal winds and thick fog was wearing down my psyche. I constantly griped about what I knew I could not change; the weather.
So I started to have these fantasies about living in the desert. I wanted to feel the warm sun. Munch on chips and hot salsa and wash it down with cold beer. Sit next to a saguaro cactus and play my guitar. Go out at night wearing a summer dress, flip flops and a tan.
I thought that workamping here in T or C would convince Jim that living in the desert was a good idea. But after just one month, I’ve discovered that I’m too much of a wuss for this kind of environment.
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