Thank you for your patience with the long time lag between posts over the past couple of weeks. After weeks of packing, throwing things out, donations, shredding followed by two days of 1500 miles driving with Tooki, I finally made it to Vegas. From vast farmlands to winding mountain roads, to vast canyons and deserts... This was definitely a unique trip for me. Mind you, I've done this sort of cross-country trip before when I was a counselor on a teen tour where we caravanned four Ryder trucks from Long Island, NY to Denver, CO but this was the first time I did such a long drive solo. (Tooki doesn't count... His legs were too short to reach the pedals, and he seemed to be more intrigued by the changing landscape of our wonderful country than helping out with the drive.)
I find driving to be very relaxing, that is when I'm not stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic with a bunch of knuckle-heads around me. At times, I was just as intrigued as Tooki was by how quickly the landscape changed. The drive also proved to be a good opportunity for introspection - particularly with regards to my misophonia. Years ago, I mused at the idea of what it would be like to live in a mountain cabin, away from city stresses and technology headaches. (I was doing a lot of I/T work at the time and found the days when I went hiking out of cell range very meditative.) Although seeing some of the beautiful mansions that looked like chalets nestled in the mountains was very appealing, the portions of the drive where I saw ranch houses in the middle of hundreds of isolated acres a little daunting. Yes, once could certainly have total control of his/her environment (as much as mother nature would allow), particularly where it related to misophonia triggers, but there was something about those isolated farm houses on the prairies and exit signs in the desert that said "No services" or "Last gas for 106 miles) that seemed a little unappealing. It must give new meaning to a "close-knit" community, despite how far away distance-wise neighbors are from one another.
Tooki on my knee in our new apartment I'll admit that rounding the bend of the last mountain pass to see the Las Vegas skyline along the horizon was very much a relief. It's a lot of driving to do in just two days (nine hours one day, nearly twelve the second.) Now it's just a matter of waiting for the movers to come with my belongings so I can finally get settled into my new apartment.
Little by little I do errands each day to not only familiarize myself with the area, but also to check one more item off of my "To do" list. Today it was to get my Nevada drivers license and tags so I can truly be considered a "local," with all the discounts and perks that status entails. Of course, the DMV is just as bad as sitting in the airport when it comes to misophonia triggers. Anxious (or bored) drivers bouncing their legs and feet, cracking gum, clicking pens... All while waiting hours on end for their number to be called. I initially sat down on a chair at
Little by little I do errands each day to not only familiarize myself with the area, but also to check one more item off of my "To do" list. Today it was to get my Nevada drivers license and tags so I can truly be considered a "local," with all the discounts and perks that status entails. Of course, the DMV is just as bad as sitting in the airport when it comes to misophonia triggers. Anxious (or bored) drivers bouncing their legs and feet, cracking gum, clicking pens... All while waiting hours on end for their number to be called. I initially sat down on a chair at
Mountain view from my apt. the end of a back row thinking I found a place with little exposure to triggers. Unfortunately, a few minutes after sitting down, a guy stands next to me jingling the change in his pocket - right by my ear! (I hate it when guys do that, especially speakers giving a presentation.) So, I picked myself up and moved to the far end of the long waiting room, where no one seemed to be sitting. It seemed to be perfect. Only a guy sitting at the counter in front of me clicking a pen, which wasn't so bad when I put in my earplugs and kept looking down at my cell phone. Then about 15-20 minutes later, a guy walks in front of me crinkling a bag of potato chips. I knew as soon as he opened the bag and started crunching away, I was in trouble; so I picked myself up again and started walking towards the other side of the room. It was just as well, since by that point there were only two numbers in front of me. By the time I got halfway down the room, my number was called - to a counter at the other end of the room where I was heading. So, after a bit of paperwork, I got in line to have my picture taken for my license. Of course, the woman in front of me was cracking gum, twirling her hair, and kicking her feet - all triggers for me. At least that line moved fairly quickly and within a couple of minutes, I was out of there!
So, now I'm officially a Nevadan (with the first "a" pronounced like "dad") and off to do a few more errands. Once I get more settled into my place and a regular routine, I'll start again along my new journey towards misophonia relief. Who knows what resources I might find in Vegas that were unavailable to me in Iowa
So, now I'm officially a Nevadan (with the first "a" pronounced like "dad") and off to do a few more errands. Once I get more settled into my place and a regular routine, I'll start again along my new journey towards misophonia relief. Who knows what resources I might find in Vegas that were unavailable to me in Iowa
RSS Feed
