“I don’t know, I don’t know just where I’m going because I’ve never been….or where I’ve been.” – Kevin Morby, Harlem River
I’m just wrapping up a three day stay in Coeur D’Alene, Idaho with my dog. We’ve been staying in a shed. It’s a little more than that; it’s a tiny home. A boho chic cabin in the backyard of the sister of the owner of the AirBnB. I have to walk through an alley and go into their backyard to get to it. It is what it is. There is no working WiFi. There’s no cable. There are a handful of DVDs…the 5th Harry Potter. A documentary on Frida Kahlo. No Dishwasher. Lots of cat hair. And the most extensive collection of personal artwork consisting of octopus paintings I’ve ever seen. I’ve come to CDA to escape the worst wildfires in Oregon’s history. And, I don’t think I can go back…
Loss
I started staying in AirBnB’s when I sold my house this summer. If we back up a little, this whole thing started with a bad breakup. My long time boyfriend—who had been begging us to move in together for about a year and a half—came home in the middle of the workday to tell me our entire relationship was a lie. He had barely finished unpacking his things the week before, but he just couldn’t do it anymore.
He said, “I feel like a loser.”
He said, “I can’t make you happy.”
But the night before he had said we were so great together because we both communicate so well. He said we were great because we both really cared. We both tried. We had bags packed for a trip to visit my family for Thanksgiving the upcoming weekend. He had just bought us tickets to see The Nutcracker ballet. We had plans for Christmas. (I can hear this dramatic, uppity voice in my head, “But we had Theatre tickets!!!”)
He said, “I don’t love you.”
How to live nowhere
Address: If we back up even farther, I once had a boss who lived in AirBnB’s full time. I learned nothing about work from her, but I did glean a few life skills. For example, don’t tell a mean boss you’re in therapy because they might use it against you. And, people with a chronic string of spit between their upper teeth and bottom lip usually have bad breath and aren’t very self-aware. Living in AirBnB’s full time may seem “Boho Chic”, but it takes work. It was probably easier for her since, as she told us frequently, her family had a lot of money. Also, they lived nearby, so she must have had her mail forwarded there. I have no family nearby and no support, so I had to figure this one out on my own. If you’re going to sell your home and be in between places or leases, you can usually find a long-term rental (a month or longer) on AirBnB. But, you will need to have a mailing address. You can get a real street address with a UPS mailbox and forward your mail there while you do this. (Note: I was unable to then re-forward my mail from this address to my permanent address.) Still, you can have packages delivered, your business address can go here, and it helps.
Stuff: Second, you will need a place to put your stuff. I moved all of my things out of my place using Red Barn Movers in Farmington, UT. This organization is really affordable, for one, but it’s also a great program to support. Red Barn is a training academy that gives ex-cons a second chance to learn life skills, attain work experience, and earn a place back into society. It’s so hard for people with a criminal record to find work. And not having a path to redemption is, I think, one of the biggest reasons people struggle to find self-worth.
Storage: Anything not donated was put in Extra Space Storage just around the corner from my old place in Farmington. The owner was really helpful and, even though we were in lockdown from the pandemic, he set up my 10×15 space (after talking me up from a 10×10, thank god) with everything I needed. I was able to go back and forth to my locker for the next few months as needed.
Donate: I attempted to sell a few things on KSL classifieds, but the results left a bad taste in my mouth. Deseret Industries wasn’t accepting large donations and Savers wouldn’t take furniture. How was I supposed to move anywhere with so much stuff? I started calling around and someone mentioned a place called The ReStore. They were still closed due to COVID-19, but I emailed their customer service and got a hold of their manager in Layton. I mentioned I had a ton of items I was giving away, but no truck or help to move them. He responded that he would personally drive out with a flatbed and pick them up himself! He came by with his daughter and they unloaded my Washer/Dryer, my full size Ikea dining table and chairs, two stools, one large mirror, a large dresser, a Lifetime folding table, and two nightstands. He explained that The ReStore sells all these items and uses the profits to build low-income housing through Habitat for Humanity. How was I just now hearing about this?
Panic
At the end of our stay in CDA, I panicked. We still hadn’t breathed clear air in over a month from the wildfires as most of the mountain west was on fire. I was dying to see the sun. Instead of heading back to the upper left corner of the country, I went the other way. I booked one night in Butte, Montana. I chose Butte because it’s midway to Utah. Plus, we could stay in Utah for a full week and work. The drive from CDA to SLC was too long for Sprocket. I’d spent a few nights itching away in a bed that I was not sure had been washed. There was no bed frame. We ditched the AirBnB strategy and decided to pay for hotels from here on out. It was worth it. Just before we left the shed in CDA, we looked at the little guest book. People from all over the country had left messages about their visits. It doesn’t look like anyone had stayed in awhile. Everyone signs their name followed by the initials of their hometown.
“Had a great time. John – SFA, CA.”
“Can’t wait to come back! – Becky – DFW, TX.”
Transition
I still had no idea at this point where I’m going to end up. The idea of heading back to PDX frightened me. I had handled the breakup so well. I never called. I was kind when he left. I never stalked or texted or called. I ignored the many texts he sent afterwards that were so cruel; when he told me over and over he was convinced I would try to hurt myself now that he had left. He was certain I couldn’t live without him. What an ego. Wow. Instead, I focused on myself. I worked out. I stayed sober and healthy. But, had I really handled it well? In the middle of a pandemic I had sold my home, donated all of my belongings, and moved across the country to a city I had never visited. I had played right into his whole shtick and everyone just like him, that I needed to move out of the suburbs and get outside of my comfort zone. I needed to live in a cool city and find my people. As if… As if I had never done anything brave? Like eloping or moving across the country in my twenties, or starting a new career three times, launching my own business, getting divorced, etc, all on my own weren’t big brave moves?
I didn’t know where to go or what the next move was. But, I knew it wouldn’t be based on the advice of people who didn’t know me or who only pretended to actually love me.
I opened the guest book in the shed at the AirBnB. We left a little note. “Hope to come back again one day. Lindsay Lauck. – TBD, USA.”
