January 12, 2010
It aint easy being responsible.
Being responsible is something we are taught from childhood. You take your toys out of their bin? You put them back when you are done. You sneak out of the house with your gaggle of girlfriends in the middle of the night? You get caught. And grounded. You miss the due date for your rent? You pay that, plus some. Yeah … you get it.
But, for some reason, when preparing for this adventure for which I am about to embark, suddenly I have even more responsibilities. Not only do I have work, bills, the norm, but now it is my responsibility to prepare for what I am leaving behind.
I have to make sure there is enough money in my account to cover the cost of my storage unit (I am opting not to sell my belongings simply because I could never afford to re-buy them upon my return to the US); find a responsible and wonderful animal-lover to foster my cats (because there is no way I would give them up, they’re my children); cancel utilities; break my lease; find a reputable mover; confirm my air reservations; change insurance policies; purchase travel/health insurance; and more.
Sometimes it seems as if the list of what I have to get done is never-ending.
An example of supreme responsible-ness was today.
I went back and forth with two insurance agents — one from the state I live, and one from the state where my car will be parked whilst I galavant and vagabond for months on end. Turns out, unless I want to register my car in the state where it will sit and get pooped on by endless amounts of Canadian Geese migrating, I have to keep the insurance policy I have here.
Except, in my moment of zeal and excitement, I canceled said policy.
So, this afternoon, I found myself playing fix-it, explaining my plans had changed (they don’t need to know where/what state my car is parked, just that it is parked), and determining the policy which would best fit my needs. Sadly, for a car that isn’t being moved out of a driveway for more than five minutes a week, my insurance is still ridiculous.
Then, in an effort to cut bills and not speed through my savings too quickly, I am going through the tedious process of refinancing my car. Of course, I fill out the address where it will be parked, neglecting my employment now is not the same state, so had to get on the phone with the financial institution, explain to them why I put down a different address than my physical one and beg them to change my address to my current residence. So, after 45 minutes on the phone, answering the most random questions about my life that no one but me would EVER know, I am a proud member of a new financial institution, and awaiting my title to be faxed to said institution for consideration.
Tomorrow, well … let’s just say I have more to cross off my list.
The wonderful and beautiful light at the end of my tunnel is a glorious adventure through Europe and North Africa, after working through these logistics and getting my life in proper order. Which makes all of these tasks and responsibilities oh-so worth the pain-in-the-assness I am working through.
2/24/2010 Update: It’s all been accomplished. Otherwise, there would be no post. I would be pulling my hair out, laying in the fetal position and sobbing like a baby. And, BIG OL PROPS to my friend, Megan, who is taking on two adorable and awesome cats while I travel.