I walked out of one alternate universe, and walked right into another one. I normally reside in my "own private Idaho," but I left Idaho behind about a week ago, and have been living in a "honky paradise," created by another human being.
Think of me as the "hired help," like the maid, or the chauffeur, or the lawn-care guy. I have my job, and I do it well. I am a highly-sought after hired-hand. All my clients come from referrals, happy clients willing to share my services amongst themselves.
And what do I have to offer? My sunny disposition. My loving, happy go lucky nature. My ability to put one foot in front of another and my hard-earned humility. Also, my discipline, and my day in and day out reliability. I guess I'm alive and awake. At least most of the time That's about it. I'm paid to basically be me. And well, I'm willing to pick up shit. That's very important for this gig. And of course, I communicate really well with animals of all kinds. Kind of like a bohemian Dr. Doolittle.
Anyway, in this paradise they have a hot tub. And well, last night we (my lovely partner and I) floated in the bubbling cauldron of hot water for almost 2 hours. That's a long time. And we sipped some white wine, and talked about the Universe (what else?) and waxed philosophically about the long strange trip we all call life.
If I drew up a diagram of my life it would be full of dead-ends and false starts, and aborted dreams and wild rides, and improbable detours and lots of creative noodling. I couldn't have invented it on my own. And maybe it isn't exactly what I envisioned all those years ago when I was a young lad, but no doubt about it, I'm in this reality now, and yes, for sure, it is my life.