May 2022
I want to work right now. I kind of actually need work. Thankfully, I have a number of offers that will provide me with that much-needed income. But I can't work. The only writing I'm really capable of right now is centered around grieving. When it comes to the shit that I need to do, like travel stories, hiking guidebooks, insurance claim spreadsheets - I'm as useless as a knitted condom.
I'm getting pre-existing assignments handled, kind of. But it's a grind. My sincerest apologies to my editors who might someday read this. I was recently offered an assignment from a dear friend and editor, that made sense and that I thought I could handle. Secluded Oregon Beaches. I'm living on the coast, I REALLY like being secluded right about now, and it would give me the opportunity to take a work trip down the coast for research. That's some shit I can do.
But I also viewed it as an opportunity to take Kara on one more road trip. She particularly loved coastal forests and tidepools but had a tenuous relationship with the actual beach (this place stinks like stinky ocean!) It would be a last chance to take her to the places I wanted to show her but never got around to, to revisit some of her favorite spots, and hopefully, some places neither of us had ever been before. An Oregon swan song for the woman who could have lived anywhere but chose the PNW as her home.
Holy shit was it brutal. In the cruelest of twists, the more breathtaking or inspiring a place was, the sadder it made me. The more seclusion I found, the lonelier I felt. It was a glorious, perfect trip from top to bottom in every way, and that's why it sucked so damn hard. I was with her but without her. In hindsight, I probably should have seen that shit coming. Any and everything I do right now is emotional Russian roulette, where the best-case scenario is the relief that the worst didn't happen.
Still, in a bizarre way, I'm glad I did it. If for no other reason than I know that someday in the future I'll be glad I did. I'm wagering on and attempting to comfort future Sunhat. And also, I'm going to write that secluded beaches story.