The best way to describe how I felt yesterday when I sat in Victor and turned the keys in the ignition for the first time in three days would be...
Yeah, Gene Wilder knows. Or at least he did a really good job pretending to know. Young (Old) Victorstein bellowed life from his internally combusting lungs, and I breathed a massive sigh of relief. I had my car back. I had my freedom back. I had my home back.
Last night, the rain poured down on Seattle and I could not feel more comfortable. After four solid months of settling into my two-foot wide bed each night, I've definitely grown fond of the feeling I get when I begin to close my eyes in that van. There might be cars zooming by me, less than five feet away outside my window, and there might be street lights shining down, and there might be someone outside wondering if there is someone inside, but Victor has become my place of refuge.
The day I need to hand him over to another owner will be sad, and soon. As of today, I will be leaving for New Zealand in eight weeks. And 4 of those weeks will be spent (Victor-lessly) on the east coast with family and friends.
As of right now, I don't know if I will have Victor waiting for me when I return to Seattle before embarking for New Zealand. Contingency and going with the flow is the name of my game right now. Rolling with the punches hasn't always been my forte, but for these next few weeks, I'm going to have to be doing a bit of that. Doing what makes sense, when it makes sense will be important if I want to be ready for my departure.
Cheers,
Ryan & Victor
