A place to live finally….

Photo by PhotoMIX Company on Pexels.com

Well, it’s been a while since I wrote. That air mattress I bought came in handy as did the camping chair. No, I didn’t end up homeless in a campground but I know my family was taking bets on how long it would take before I did.

Well, it’s been over four months since I came home from Spain with no place to live. The couch surfing and Air B&Bs had to end at some point, so I relented, took deep breaths, meditated, drank, and finally did it.

I settled on an old condo and, I mean old, the outside is stucco with cracked walls and a creaky gate to get in. It’s full of old people.  I thought how convenient; the geriatric nurse moves in. No way will I meet the neighbors cause if they know I’m here they might come get me every time someone elderly falls or has a heart attack. Right now I can’t help anyone but myself cause I’m emotionally disabled and trying to re-integrate and I don’t want anything to add to my aggravation with life at the moment.

Funny, the condo complex is called “Casa Blanca” How appropriate Ide find something with a Spanish name.

Well, I moved in mid-November and it had one thing I really wanted: a fireplace and plank floors. I needed somewhere to sit and stew in my re-pat hell of coming home; a fire and some wine were always a cure for what ailed me. So, I overlooked the old exterior to get where I could have a fireplace.

So I got the keys and unloaded my car of everything I owned: 2 duffle bags, 2 backpacks, a shower curtain, a camping chair, an air mattress, one pillow, a painting, and of course a wine opener.

My embroidered shower curtain, Dont ask why.
I stare at it wishing I was there

I promptly blew up the mattress, opened the camper chair, sat down with a cup of wine, and lit a 3-hour log in the fireplace. It was my new home for the next 12 months. I left Spain for this? Don’t get me started.

view from my camper chair until the fire died.

I stared at the mattress on the floor and I said to myself I could do this.  Pretend you’re camping. At least you have a roof over your head, be grateful self said.  And the owner left you a roll of toilet paper, now be real grateful.

Anyway, my first night on the mattress I realized how cold the plastic was that was sitting on a cold floor.  So  I pulled the mattress in front of the fireplace to sleep next to the fire. There,  just like camping without the wind and cayotes and bugs.  Unless there are roaches in here that I haven’t seen yet.

Oh, you damn 60-year-old bladder.

I had to get up at 2am and pee and realized how painful my arthritis was laying on cold plastic. I had to roll off the thing, get on my hands and knees, and get up.  Holy moly did I feel old. My arthritis was killing me, and now I had to stand up from the floor. I had nothing to hold onto to pull myself up. My sciatic pain shot through my legs and my hip screamed at me. I started swearing like a sailor hoping the neighbors wouldn’t hear me through the paper-thin walls.

 Who’s f**ing Idea was this? Self said.  What am I a glutton for self-punishment? It will be like camping I told myself. You’ll get furniture in no time self said. umm maybe I should have gone shopping before I moved in. A little late now... self snickered…

After peeing I came back and stared at the mattress, now I had to get down all the way to the floor again. I stared at the camping chair, nope couldn’t sleep on that.

I lowered myself slowly down and then just before my knees got to the mattress I fell the rest of the way and promptly rolled off the thing smacking my elbow on the hard plank floor. Now I was wide awake in pain at 2 am and the fire had died out.  The camping experiment was a failure. I tried to lie to myself, but it didn’t work. I was staring at the ceiling, freezing, and I didn’t have another log and the wine bottle was empty.

Fu****

I lay there huffing and puffing and thought how will I get up two more times tonight to pee? Lord help me. If I can’t hold it then what? At least the mattress was plastic.

Damn it, maybe I need to watch those U tube videos on how to get up….

I wanted to go to a hotel, but funds were low, and I thought I could do this. I had to do it. I will do it I told myself. Get your ass to a store and get furniture tomorrow self said. But first, you can lay here and freeze, you idiot. self said.

 I wonder how long it will take to get the furniture delivered. How long can one sleep on an air mattress anyway?

Maybe I didn’t think this through.

I should have laid off the wine.

Note to self, buy Depends or don’t drink fluids after 4 pm.

Somewhere in the US as a re-pat.


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Published by Chif

I am a nurse, divorced, and love travel. I climb stairs with a bunch of friends and I’m the Captain of a stair team called Tower of Power. I’m also a cancer survivor. I had anal cancer and before you think something rude… I was married 21 years to a greedy controlling cold asshole. That’s why I got ass cancer. And that’s what gave me the strength to leave. Sometimes it takes near death to wake one up. Now 8 years out, here I am embarking on another change. Move to Spain, teach kids English, and travel some more. I’m not rich but I’ve saved a little to float until my pension kicks in, in a few years. That’s why I chose Spain. I can live here pretty cheap, and travel farther on less, and well have some fun finally. I’m no spring chicken,.I’m 58, and well..you never know when your pink slip on life will be handed to you. Been there done that… I’m not waiting for another one……..adios chicos and chicas

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About Me

Hola, I’m Chif.

This blog is about changing my life again. But this time, as a single, late-50s woman who has survived advanced cancer and a terrible divorce, I’m stepping into a completely new chapter. I’m moving out of the USA to do something I’ve never done before: teach English to young elementary children in Spain. As an experienced geriatric nurse who never had kids or even babysat much, this new path feels like uncharted territory.

With no Spanish under my belt, feeling too old to start learning, and questioning why I would leave the comfort of a good job and health insurance, I sit here wondering: Whose f***ing idea was this anyway? Mine, all mine. And here is my story, one painful step at a time.

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Published by Chif

I am a nurse, divorced, and love travel. I climb stairs with a bunch of friends and I’m the Captain of a stair team called Tower of Power. I’m also a cancer survivor. I had anal cancer and before you think something rude… I was married 21 years to a greedy controlling cold asshole. That’s why I got ass cancer. And that’s what gave me the strength to leave. Sometimes it takes near death to wake one up. Now 8 years out, here I am embarking on another change. Move to Spain, teach kids English, and travel some more. I’m not rich but I’ve saved a little to float until my pension kicks in, in a few years. That’s why I chose Spain. I can live here pretty cheap, and travel farther on less, and well have some fun finally. I’m no spring chicken,.I’m 58, and well..you never know when your pink slip on life will be handed to you. Been there done that… I’m not waiting for another one……..adios chicos and chicas

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