I’m trying to think of a way to illustrate what my time in Freeport IL is like… The first thing that came to my mind was a Nazi concentration camp. But then I realized that might be a bit extreme and a little insensitive. So I will refrain from using that analogy.
So I have lived in California now for about a year. I have made it out on a boar a handful of times. I have almost mastered the art of surfing but not really. To be brutally honest surfing is amazingly hard and often leaves you (maybe just me) with lots of uncomfortable feelings all over the body (I would tell you about my surfing rash but that might be embarrassing. Just kidding, kind of.)
But my surfing experiences are about 30 minutes of build up as I walk to the beach, 10 minutes of excitement as I paddle out and another hour or two of pain as I try not to drown while attempting to stand on a board that constantly is running out from underneath me as if it were alive and yelling, “hey fat-so, get off me”. It’s usually a mildly embarrassing and extremely frustrating endeavor. There are moments of victory when I stand for 15 seconds on top of the board but it soon turns, once again to embarrassment as I fall to my near death. Yea, good times! Hopefully soon this story will change though… I will learn to surf, oh yes, I will learn to surf.
So … this is almost EXACTLY what my time in Freeport IL is like (without the hope of victory though, there is not hope in Freeport…)
30 minutes plus of driving home thinking how nice it is going to be to see people. 10 minutes of pleasure as I catch up with family and friends and then hours upon hours of trying not to drown in a sea of boredom, frustration and annoyance.
Ahhh Freeport! Send me Christmas and let me leave, that’s all I ask.
Trying to stay afloat,
PS: as i sat here writing this blog my pastor stopped by and we had a delightful conversation. it’s always good to see him and catch up. I guess there are moments of hope in this foggy little town i call my birth place after all .