In April of 2019 I gleefully packed up my home of 11 years. While fantastical in retrospect, during the marathon packing session I remember thinking that once on the market my lovely oceanfront home would sell instantaneously, and I would be off to an exciting new life.

It was an optimistic time for April 2019 Jason. We had spent the last 6 months nursing our 125 pound Great Pyrenees through double arthroscopy. Diagnosed with torn cruciate ligaments, Nemo would require a lot of carrying up and down the 26 stairs up to our front door, a lot of pain medication and a lot of sedatives. I spent a good portion of his recovery sleeping next to him on the hardwood floor, as he was never to climb the stairs up to my bedroom again.

Nemo was on the mend, and my daughter came to me with a plan to end her weekly custody migrations. She, about to become a teenager, had realized that the time she spent commuting from the beach to her school and gym would be better spent elsewhere. She also noted that the transitions from home to home were disruptive and she’d prefer it if we changed her schedule.

Why not move back to Los Angeles, like you’ve always wanted? Her mother, my former wife, suggested. Vacations and long weekends would be spent with me, no longer would I spend 3-4 days a week driving the kid to gym and school. An end to my self-imposed exile years before I had planned it? Read the rest

https://boingboing.net/2020/07/24/short-story-schrodingers-ha.html