Marcel rounded the corner at the stoplight, steady and slow. His tiny truck bed was piled high. He had managed to get his two tall bookshelves, a desk and some miscellaneous boxes in this load, along with a bunch of couch cushions and the large ottoman that served as a coffee table in his former living room. He was unsure as to when he would have another living room, at this point. His disappointment surfaced again as he began to rehash the day that he had walked into his job of nine years and had been laid off, just like that. No notice, no warning and no kidding. He had been flabbergasted. He had certainly not expected to find himself out of work, in between girlfriends and of his downtown loft space, as his lease had just expired and his dire situation had forced him to do something different. He found his answer in a backpacking trip that was going to take him across the country to stay with friends and find new vistas.
The bookshelves in the bed of the truck teetered slightly on the turn, wobbling just enough for Marcel to notice it in his rear view mirror. He eased slowly through the turn and up the hill towards the gated entry to the parking lot of the Olathe storage building. This hill had concerned him each and every time he had made this trip, which, by now had to be going on at least a dozen, and he wondered why anyone would purposely construct a Olathe storage building up at the top of a steep hill knowing that people were going to be hauling truck loads of stuff up to the gate over and over again. He let it go, and instead pulled up along side of the keypad at the gate. He entered the unit number and the password into the keypad and the gates of the Olathe storage building swung upward and back, clearing the way for him to pull his belongings through.
He parked in front of the Olathe storage building and heaved a heavy sigh as he got out and fidgeted with the lock on the metal rolling door. He was down to just a few more loads and then all of his things would be packed away, collecting dust behind locked doors. He was so excited by the prospect of being freed from his possessions for a while that he could scarcely contain himself. For thirty six years he had lived his life, attached to the things that he owned. His life was spent upgrading to better brands and never versions, and quite frankly, he was tired of it.
What was motivating him more than anything right now was what had seemed like the farthest thing that from his mind only a year ago, when what he was doing now would have been inconceivable to him. Now, his belly rumbled with excitement as he thought of the places that he would visit, but more importantly it was the sensation of living his life on purpose, intentionally, each day finding himself in a different place or with different people, rejecting the routine, the monotonous moments that comprise the work week and prime time. Marcel put his entire life into that Olathe storage building and as he closed the door on his unit he visualized himself releasing the need to be owned by his possessions any more. Now, life was going to get interesting, and he realized that this nomadic path was something special and necessary.
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Disclamer: This entry is intended to promote our partner StorageMart and some or all participants received compensation.
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