Time is a fickle friend.

7 minutes

Friends,

It’s been a week. A very long week. And it’s only Tuesday.

I’m still trying to recover from last week’s physical and mental toll of trying to give 100% to everyone and everything. It was a week of learning that there is more to pile onto the plate, more to accomplish, and more to add to the list of ‘I haven’t gotten around to it.’

My list of household chores is a mile long, and no end in sight. My backyard is beginning to look like wheat fields, and I have had 6 pots of flowers for a week that still need to be planted.

Let’s not talk about the clothing situation. I am doing laundry at 3:00 A.M. to keep up.

Back story

Before I took on the added craziness of trying to become a world-famous author and be the support system for my hubby’s business—along with working two full-time jobs and raising a 16-year-old who is already in college—I had time.

I didn’t know that I had time.

The funny thing is, I look back on those days and think, ‘Those were the good old days,’ but I remember also thinking back then that my life was a roller coaster of ups and downs. I had just retired from the Army, and COVID hit. It didn’t affect Alaska like it did in the lower 48, so we were still moving and grooving, living our lives.

I traveled a lot, through the darkened alleyways of Alaska’s three highways and ferry systems to little-known towns that housed a whole city of service members.

I coordinated a host of events that required a logistical understanding of the postal system and a metric ton of food and games.

And, at that time, we were raising three boys—two who were in the midst of their teenage breakdowns and battling for supremacy. Anyone who has raised teenagers knows what I am talking about. It’s hard.

It started with a conversation

But then the VA put me on meds, and my brain cleared up a little, the shadows weren’t so dark anymore, and I felt like I could take on the world.

And then, we moved to the PNW.

I remember my hubby and I’s first anniversary in Washington. We didn’t know what to do. It was November, cold and wet, and we really didn’t think through how we were going to celebrate.

We ended up in Anacortes, which is a cute town, but on a Sunday afternoon, nothing is open but the grocery store and the Mexican restaurant.

We went for a small hike along the shoreline—less than a quarter mile—and talked about our frustrations about where we were in life.

Decisions were made

We were middle-aged, and both of us had just left our careers to make a change. At the time, Washington seemed like the best place to go.

It had to be less expensive than Alaska (wrong). The internet said it had plenty of jobs (wrong). And the housing market wasn’t that bad (laughable now).

We came here with a hope and a dream.

I would finally write and publish a book. Nick was finally back in the lower 48, so if he wanted to get back into the reptile world- honestly, nothing was stopping him.

We didn’t plan out anything. No one said, ‘This is our path,’ and shook hands.

We just expressed what we wanted to do.

Two roads, One household

Before I could blink, Nick and I were making moves.

We just forgot to tell each other.

That’s how our relationship works. It may seem absurd to other people—you might say a little insane—but for whatever reason, it works for us.

We jump on each other’s crazy train and hold on.

Everything grew and yet didn’t.

With impossible goals, Nick and I started making moves. Slowly at first and then gaining speed.

There have been a lot of potholes and redirections- but we kept chugging forward. I think more because we hate to sit still. Time is not our friend. It gives us time to think and remember.

Something neither one of us likes to do.

That’s the thing with shadows. They don’t ever go away, and you are forced to find a way to live with them. No amount of medication, therapy sessions, or walks can fully combat the memories.

You have to find a to keep them at bay long enough to stay functional.

Finding our tribes.

I won’t say that we are fully integrated into our new lives. We still dream of moving to a state where we can actually buy a house and retire.

A state that doesn’t threaten to tax you on ‘miles driven’ in your car or has cities that are safe to walk down without worrying about being robbed.

I don’t care who you are—if you live in a state where most people won’t travel outside of their county limits because they are fearful for their safety, then something is wrong. But that’s a conversation for another day.

In our journey to make a name for ourselves- we have found tribes.

I have slowly built up a network of friends who are writers. It’s not much- still in the single digits, but it’s my people. Nick has found a place in the reptile world and is constantly talking about new genes and scientific finds. Kekoa has made a name for himself at the college and is trying to build his network of fellow artists.

And we joined the Combat Veterans Motorcycle Association. A group of like-minded people who love riding and deal with the same things we do. It’s honestly been a relief, and I am thankful that we found them.

Your net worth is only as good as your network. That’s the motto we now live by.

We missed the mark.

This weekend was our slap across the face that building a network includes making plans and juggling schedules. A lesson on how to say ‘yes’ and plan accordingly.

We failed. An epic failure. A catastrophic mismanagement of time.

We ended up missing two events that we were really looking forward to—with friends. It was not by choice—life gets in the way—but it still hurt.

Time is a fickle friend. We thought we had enough of it. How could we not fit in everything in 48 hours? And sleep?

But time dedicded to fight back and we lost the battle.

Time. Years ago, I had too much of it. And now the days are flying by like an out-of-control train.

Final thought.

Soon, the clock will stop ticking, and I wonder if I did enough. Was I dedicated enough? Did I make the right decisions at the right moment to live my best life?

Or am I missing the mark? Some people say we should stop and smell the roses, breathe in the fresh air, and take in the wonders of the world.

And those same people tell you that you need to hustle to get ahead. That we must work harder, longer, and faster than everyone else. Because if we don’t – then we are not living up to the American dream.

I am so confused. Which one is it?

Is there a book I can read that will give me the answers? Or a podcast to listen to? A YouTube video with a checklist of how to live in the moment and still get ahead?

Crap- it’s 5 A.M., and I have to get ready to go to work. Busy, busy day ahead of me. I have my list. I can’t read anything on it- but I’m sure I will get it all done.

As soon as I switch the laundry. Can’t forget about that.

Until tomorrow, my friends- Keep Reading and Stay Caffeinated.

From Scottish gods to the mystery of Medusa’s life and on to the European Witch Trials, the Raven Society is tasked with finding the truth in history’s inconsistencies. Hold your hats on this epic adventure to save lost souls from being forgotten.

The Writer and The Librarian (Book 1):

https://books2read.com/The-Writer-And-The-Librarian

Signed copies at:

https://rlgeerrobbins.com/product/the-writer-and-the-librarian-the-raven-society-book-1/

The Under Covers Bookstore (UK):

The Writer and the Librarian | The Under Covers (theundercoversbookstoreandcafe.com)

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