When I was on the road, 3 or 4 or 5 weeks on, 1 week off, for so many years, I had "road families". People who have never lived that life don't know, but when you stay in a place for a month at a time, a quarter at a time, a year at a time, with just occasional trips home, you make relationships.
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My wife'd call me up, ask me how it was going, I'd be like, "Well, we think Alex is bonin' that complete scumbag Bobby, and we're waiting on whether Lynn's house is gonna close, and Arthur seems way more sick than just a cold, so we're worried about him."
She would be entirely mystified, of course, by these reports.
And you know this went on for twenty-five *years*.
I live at home now, permanently. I leave my house once or twice a week, at most.
And, as all other people who are terminally online, I live in a trap, and my connection to the world is my friends online.
And she says, "how was your day?"
And I'm like, oh, it was okay, and I narrate the various events from my online friends' lives.
Exactly as if I were speaking of my road families, from all those years.
She nods, tolerantly, and generally just ignores it.
Except *sometimes*.
Sometimes she says, "well, does he know about compost temperatures?" "Has she tried cider vinegar?" "What about a clinical trial?" "I will send you some links on weaving technique."
Winning.
At one point, my spouse confessed to me that she worried that I had a road woman. I mean, I was gone 4 weeks out 5 for a *year*, and to the same place.
And I was *shocked*, and it was in the moment, and I know you're gonna judge me, and I know it was not quite the right thing to say, but what I actually said was this: "Another woman? I already have the best model, and I'm not that happy with it, why would I want two?"
Oh my God. Talk about *froze out*.
@GeePawHill glad you have us for connection. I can't speak for everyone, but I've enjoyed reading most of your toots that I've seen.
