I don’t like Arizona.
Initially I thought I would. Initially I thought everything here had the level of green that Flagstaff presents. I realize now how stupid of an assumption this was, given the reality of the southwest being largely desert. I knew nothing about Phoenix. Once I did know (upon arrival at that), I convinced myself that I could make a life here replete with large house and suburban lifestyle. It worked for a while. I managed to get one kid to middle school before the wheels fell off entirely. After it was a steady stream of things going wrong mixed in with meeting the love of my life, and all of the nonsense that unfolded in between and after.
I’ve been having bad dreams. I don’t remember most of them. I remember images that feel like bits of my real life pulled back into focus. I remember places and peoples faces and all of them are moments from this terrible place. It feels like my soul is telling me to move on. Every part of my being needs me to move on–sooner rather than later. The problem is in what that actually means. I’m so close to retirement that leaving now would hurt immeasurably. Actually, there is a measure–I’d get an extra $1,200 dollars a month–if I stick to the timeline of leaving when the kid graduates. $2500 a month extra if we tough out two more years beyond that. We are talking about $10-30,000 dollars in annual benefits depending on if we make it two or four more years here.
But can we?
I don’t really know that it is realistic to stay that long. Everything here is heat and sadness. Everything here is a support system for the kids and will be as a result of proximity. It is the way of all offspring. They don’t leave until they leave… or you do. So, as I sweat in this office kept at a loving 86 degrees I am wondering what sort of plan the Lady Talis and I need to put in place to make our time here livable. That will determine how long we manage to do it.