For years, I've said I'm more homeful than homeless. I'm lucky to claim an abundance of spots around the country - and now, around the world - as homes, thanks to my wandering way of life. It has recently come to my attention, though, that such a way of life can complicate one line on every single form one fills out. Address.
Do you want my "most permanent" address? That happens to be my sister's. Or the address that's currently on my driver's license? Because I don't know anyone who lives there. You're trying to get to the apartment where I currently sleep? Your GPS doesn't know the roads yet. Or the address where mail is most likely to reach me quickly? That's a bit complicated. Need the zip code linked to the billing address for my bank statement? Just a second - let me look it up again. How about this address on this page and that address on that page? The best of both worlds.
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| Just in case you're not sure where in the world Bowling Green, Kentucky is. |
I've been wrestling addresses for just about one year now. When I moved to South Africa, my address changed. 2721 Smallhouse Road was in the rearview, and I was heading toward a 15 Eaton Road that was far, far away. Not long after my arrival in Cape Town, my family vacated the Bowling Green address we'd lived in for my whole lifetime. As if moving to the other side of the world didn't complicate any call for an address enough, I was left with no choice but to scatter my life across Bowling Green like leaves in a Kentucky autumn. Magazine subscriptions to one address, wedding invitations to another, bills and statements to yet another.
Perhaps the biggest challenge in adjusting to life at "home" in Bowling Green has been trying to sort just where I live. As I explained to a potential employer this morning, "Don't record my driver's license address; I don't know anyone who lives there now. I currently live here while I wait on an apartment to be finished (and I don't know that address yet). This one is my most permanent address, but it actually belongs to my sister; she just collects some of my mail for me. Oh, and when my dad comes into town again, he'll bring my social security card. I'll bring by a copy."And that's just how to get mail to me.
If you're wondering where I currently live, the best and most accurate answer is in two open suitcases on a living room floor of an apartment I won't be in for long. Well, that and a whole lot of boxes in the back of a storage unit. But you'll have to wait for my dad to come in from Scottsville to bring any personal records of mine, and it might take me a minute to verify my credit card with a zip code... third time's a charm, as they say.
I'm looking forward to settling in a bit as soon as I can get the puzzle pieces in the right spots. But, you know, I'm somewhere I haven't been in a while, and that's just about as comfortable as it gets for me.
