Things Don't Go Away

It's 93 degrees today; hot as hell and it's only early April. There is a light breeze outside, so it's not too bad, but it reminds me of one of the reasons I really don't want to stay in Pasadena. Hearing the police helicopters circling incessantly last night was another. The half-dozen police and fire sirens in the evening air melded with the chopper blade whacking the air: all sounds that I never heard on my trip.

After the bags were unpacked and stuff put away, I was so happy to be home. It took three or four nights of sleeping in my own bed to remedy the sore muscles in my back. But looking around the house, I realized that everything I had left behind when I went on my three-week journey was still confronting me upon my return. One thing that did strike me when I walked through the front door: this is really a pretty nice place I have here.

Worry No. 1 is cash flow. The Social Security Administration has still not figured out how to deal with benefits for same-sex marriages. You'd think it would be fairly simple: just apply the same standards, controls and regulations to all married couples. But, no, it has to take months upon months of bureaucrats writing and revising and double-checking to get things up and running. Meanwhile, half of the monthly income I had been expecting is nowhere to be seen. Sure, I'll get a nice lump sum when they finally get their act together, but until then I'm forced to start drawing out of the IRA in order to pay the monthly bills (well, not quite yet, but within a month or so). Hopefully, things will have started to flow by then.

Worry No. 2 (and reason to be pissed at Steve): I figured I'd be getting a grand or so back from my tax return, but it turns out, between federal and state returns, I owe $72. It's not a huge sum, but it isn't the small windfall I had expected, either. Turns out Steve didn't have taxes withheld from his Social Security, so the federal refund (and them some) was eaten up by that. At the time, I thought we had an awful good cash flow, considering one of us was retired. You'd think a bookkeeper would think of these things. But then, he had more important things on his mind, as did I.

So, I spent the first week after my return in an insomnia-induced funk, sometimes an abject angst, wondering how I was going to get from Point A to Point W way down the line. My trip gave me a real sense of direction, but the unknowns are like a crowd of people watching the parade going by, and I am alone, with no one to hike me up onto his shoulders so I can see and appreciate what's going on. I miss Steve so much it aches. And there is nothing in this entire world that can take the place of touching your spouse, holding them close and knowing that you're not alone.

I've made the decision to sell the house and make a move to La Crosse to be near my brother Steve and his extended family. There were three big factors for the La Crosse decision; first was knowing that I could take the equity out of this place, purchase a nice home in La Crosse and have a sizable amount left over to squirrel away in the IRA; second was wanting to be around to watch my great-niece, Natalie, grow up; third was my desire to experience the seasons.

I have several clients who are OK with a long-distance design relationship, as most everything is sent and received via Internet and e-mail, whether for online design or print work. I'm also hopeful that there will be some source of part-time income available in La Crosse, be it new clients there or a part-time position with a local design firm. I've crunched the number several times and even being overly liberal about costs, it still looks like a very doable thing.

So today I contacted a Realtor about coming over and sizing up the condo, letting me know what she thinks it's worth, finding out whether dumping a couple thousand in redoing the kitchen and baths would make for a better asking price. Luckily, Pasadena is a seller's market right now, especially in the lower price brackets, and this is an ideal starter home for someone. I just feel it in my bones.

So after my weeklong funk, I started making my calls and arranging for my appointments, and I'm feeling much better about things. I simply have to focus on my car's license plate, which I inherited from Steve: "OK TODAY."