I honestly thought we'd be gone by now, our nightmare year in Bakersfield quickly fading into memory, mentioned only humorously in passing over cocktails...
"Well if you think THAT'S bad, let me tell you about the year we lived in Bakersfield..."
At the very least I thought I'd be staring at a wall of neatly packed moving boxes, even if the details of where we were going were still to be ironed out.
Exactly why I thought that is a mystery. It's not like the circumstances that drove us here in the first place have changed. In many respects, they've actually gotten worse. Probably just a survival instinct, an act of self delusion to keep from stringing a rope over the rafters of our rented two car garage.
But surprisingly I'm not all that upset. "Resigned" is probably the best description of my mood. Maybe it's all those hours of watching "Lock Up: Raw". I'm always amazed at how homey some of the inmates at San Quentin have made their cells. It just goes to show you that anything is doable if you work at it. And besides, there are people in far worse shape than we are, so maybe we should just be grateful for what little we have.
So I guess we should make ourselves comfortable. Looks like we're going to be here awhile.
