carrying a feather

May 10

I was driving yesterday back out from the hot springs, thinking to myself,

“I have no idea what I'm doing. I don't really understand the the role that a social worker is supposed to play. I don't really know what my job looks like, what I'm responsible for. Why am I doing this? Why didn't I choose something that is more clearly defined?! Why didn't I decide to be a Doctor?! I could still, maybe I should switch over, they do the better work. Or a nurse, they do alot of the same things as a social worker but without the stigma- or do they? Is that just the perception?”

I drove along, panicking a little, feeling major apprehension about who I was going to have to pretend to be in this role. Would I have to act a certain way to do this? I passed an elderly woman carrying a feather to the gathering, forty miles down the road. The other woman, in the wood stove toasted log cabin at the springs where I went to pay, who told me it was all meant to be, and the signs would come when I needed them...I put it all out of my mind and focused on making some distance, shaking the tension creeping back into my shoulders away.

Push it through to Kamloops for gas, fluids, air checks. Find out I got a paycheque from work. Still no student loan. How do they think students get by without those? I feel lucky to have the support of people with money right now or I'd be back at home shitting my pants. Run errands there, getting this and that. Shoes for work and a new cell phone. Some of my friends will rejoice to know that I have left the 90's flip phone behind. It will take sometime to learn to use this big screen. It seems so excessive...

I take myself out for a nice dinner to try and relax, but I'm still feeling stressed out from not enough money, being inside the mall, worrying for my truck, and from wanting to be further by now. I get some mix for my booze and my morning coffee, and leave Kamloops at seven twelve. I plan to stop at Bridge Lake Rec Centre for the night, or Lone Butte if I'm awake enough. I arrive in Bridge Lake at 9:30, perfect timing. As I see that giant sign, Wecome to the Cariboo, a great big creature crosses the highway in front of it, holy fuck, could that be a cariboo!?? Haha, nope, it's a big goofy horse-lookin moose. As the light fades, making everything, the sky the highway the trees all look the same shade of grey, I barely see two more of the goonie things slowly wandering around, crossing the highways back and forth. The provincial rec sites are all wearing CLOSED signs. I keep driving, much further than I should, as my eyes burn and I have to squint to see the road. Here, the lines are all worn off by winter sand and snow and it gets so that I'm struggling to focus on where I'm supposed to be, and where the concrete ends. I get all the way into Williams Lake and I'm feeling a little like crying from being so damn tired and bewildered at not being able to see the road. I go slower than everybody, and let them all pass, at least just so I can follow, but of course, I cannot keep up once they're in front of me. Get a soup at Tim's and use the internet to let my people know I'm all right. Look at my Chilcotin back roads book. Closest campground is Greenly Lake Provincial, just off the highway. When I start driving, it's the same, I can't see anything, and pull over after maybe seeing a road sign for it. Trucks are flying past, shaking the whole rig and making it shudder. This is a new sound that started just before Kamloops when I go eighty km/h. Shuddering like the camper is shimmying against the cab. I guess that's what it is. I'll have to try and push it back. The bed used to rub up on the cab like that when I got it and I tire ironed it to bend it back off of it. I decide it's too dangerous to U-turn on this highway, and that might not have been it. There aren't any signs here! I keep driving, there were three more campsites on the map ahead. Sad to pass through some nice looking towns in the dark. I wanted to explore the places like these. Finally I see the sign for the Big Lac La Hache provincial campsite and it says CLOSED too. Wtf! Keep driving...

Then I see a sign, Helena Lake Rec Site, and swerve across the highway to turn in. 12Kms it says, and I don't care at this point because it doesn't say “closed”. I groan as I cross a cattle grate and the muddy dirt road begins. Here we go again. But the road is really good, and I make a game of weaving between the few potholes there are. I still only average about 30 clicks, and I can hear the mud and dirt flying up, dirtying the truck and camper. She's gonna be messy! I see at some point through the back window, into the camper, as the brake lights illuminate it. There is a carton of almond milk, and the fridge door somehow on top of it. Oh great... that's gonna be messy, I think and picture broken glass vodka bottles. That'll stink.

I get there eventually, and it's dead quiet. Loons are snoring like big bird on the lake as I settle into the back with my latenite juice n book. A carton of almond milk busted open on a corner, but somehow didnt leak it out, the busted corner was on the top. A small blessing. The fridge door is right off its hinges, I'll figure it out tomorrow. I make a list of all the creatures I saw today, in reverse order, since waking up, finish my drink and pass out. Its one am.

Of course it only took twenty minutes to drive out from the place that took me forty-five to get to in the dark when I was dead tired. After pondering a creek from the bridge, I cross the last cattle grate, and turn onto the highway for Williams Lake. I see sun ahead! I feel relaxed and think again of me and my “role” and decide it's okay for me to not know. Although I am always impressed by really professional people, I know that isn't me. I don't want to BE my role. And also, social workers have screwed up a lot, even in my own life, so maybe it's okay to not be so sure of what I am supposed to do or be. The ones who have caused the damage were so damn sure they were right and doing right. I would rather remain full of doubt and dissent. I will always be questioning what I do, hopefully able to listen better that way, and hear what might work best without being so sure that my ideas are the right ones.

Wild Eyes by the Stampeders is playing while I review my films at breakfast!! YEAH!