Raw Drip

I’ve described the location of my family’s home as “rural” to which many people reply, “Oh how nice it’ll be for you to get a break from this rat race & enjoy some peace & quiet!”

Um, yeah…

The problem with that statement is that it assumes I blame civilization for all my stress when, in fact, I blame my exhaustion on the constant tug of war between the demands of parenting & staying employed. I don’t feel the need to drop out of the rat race by changing venues. I’m fond of civilization. Really, really fond of good coffee.

Country living seems, on it’s face, to be a simpler way of life; one providing ample opportunities to enjoy some rest & relaxation and focus on being wirh your family. But when your closest gas station is a 30 minute drive and there’s no such thing as a “quick trip” to anywhere, I think the novelty of the country wears thin pretty quickly. When remoteness becomes a distraction from spending time with your family, all you’ve accomplished with a move to the country is to make your rat race a little more scenic.

I think the lack of appreciation for country living also assumes I don’t like being with other people. I think people watching is one if the greatest past-times ever. My Southern California roots feed off the energy of people, traffic, shopping, dining, and easy access to diversions. That’s one reason why NYC was such an amazing experience for me. It appealed to the urban adventurer within. As far as i can see the country brings solitude in large doses and most everyone finds it boring, but only a few will admit to it. Here’s my take on it: if your idea of relaxation is swatting at bugs the size of your fist, the country may be good for you. I know, for me, I’d rather swat at perfume-pushers in the mall. However, if your idea of “roughing it” is a town with only one Starbucks, I suggest you rethink your affinity for the allure of country living and stay put with your fancy, big city ways.

My vacation to the country is nearly over. Tomorrow we fly back home. Home to my modest house full of noisy kids and crazy demands. Home to my costly, demanding suburban life . It may be a rat race, but I’m a well-conditioned rat, perpetually jacked up on good coffee, and as far as I can tell, it’s my race to lose.