Living: airbnb in Northeast Arts District, Twin Cities, Minnesota

Working: COCO Coworking, Northeast Arts District

Laundry: @airbnb

This week in laundry I pivot my plans, reflect on the plains, and realize my travels are more than half way over.

I’m not sure how many of you compulsively check my posts. But for those who do, you might notice my laundry dates keep shifting.

You’ll also likely notice that I post with a lot of errors, and make corrections in the days that follow. But that’s a different issue than the one at hand.

Which is my need to pivot.

In the tech world, to say you need to pivot is to say you need to make a change of plans, and quickly. Your initial expectations are unfulfillable, so your direction must be changed. And perhaps drastically.

A pivot reflects your agility.

I always cringe when I hear this word. Pivot. It always sounds soaked in dogma to me. A sort of quasi-religious tech terminology. As if lifted from a tome.

It’s an idiomatic keyword, laden with meaning. It’s hip. It’s trendy. And it has the quality of fingernails to the chalkboard whenever I hear it.

And I’m not quite sure why. Maybe because it never captures the nuances around it. To say pivot completely neglects where you came from and where you’re going.

It also prevents any plurality. You could, conceivably, explore a backup plan prior to committing to a change. You might explore both paths simultaneously. You might need to.

But when you pivot the past is the past and the future is the future. There’s no more nuance.

Maybe because it’s in a class of jargonistic technobabble – words that are used to signify class and culture – to establish “hey I’m a tech guy” and “my level is top because my words say so.”

They are phrases that say more than the meaning on the surface. Because they also seek to somehow say “I know more than you.”

Maybe I dislike the term because it makes it sound like you’re in control. But in actuality, when you need to pivot, it’s a reaction.

It’s a waste of energy to change your path simply because you want to. You change your plans because you need to – in reaction to some external demands, changes in assumptions, or failures.

To react or to have to make a change acknowledges the need to do so. It might even acknowledge a failure – and further highlight a lack of foresight.

To react – to “have to make a change” – acknowledges the need to do so. There’s a hint of humility in the statement. There’s an acknowledgement of external forces at play.

To pivot is to do so at your own free will. It makes it sound like you’re in complete control. It fails to humbly acknowledge the external factors that influenced the need to change. At least that’s what it sounds like to me.

So as I do laundry, at the luxury of the in-unit machine from my airbnb, on this fine Minnesota Monday evening, I’m not really pivoting. I didn’t just change my mind and chose to do laundry this evening. I’m reacting. To a combination of things actually.

One of those factors is that laundry day keeps creeping up in the week. While I can change the day I do laundry, I can’t go more than seven days without a wash. And still have clean clothes in the morning.

But I can go much less.

The shifting days started with moving Saturday washes to Friday washes. This first occurred on Hawaiian shirt Friday. It was necessitated by a new change to my routines – driving long distances through the weekend, preventing any opportunity for laundry.

This worked well for several weeks, until a Thursday wash was needed. For unforeseen reasons.

The week after that, I wanted to check out a Thursday evening makerspace open house in Bozeman. So I had to move wash to Wednesday.

And now I’m in the Twin Cities. One of the best parts about being in the Midwest is that it affords the opportunity to connect with old friends, living about these parts. I met up with a few when I was in Milwaukee.

I’ll meet more this week.

Some I haven’t seen in nearly a decade. Some have gotten married since I saw them last. Actually all of them have gotten married since I saw them last.

The opportunity to meet my long lost friends is one I’m unwilling to give up. And while the chore of laundry calls, a change of plans necessitates a reaction to my surprisingly and uncharacteristically full schedule. Not a pivot, but a reaction. To a bit of preemptive planning.

So here I am. It’s Monday. And the clothes are washing.

That’s not the only reaction. I haven’t been able to dig into my SATE proposal yet either. Between wrapping up last laundry’s post on Thursday and Friday, and driving from Bozeman to the Twin Cities Saturday and Sunday, I just haven’t been able to safely carve out time.

I usually do a bit of scrubbing and pictures a few days after the initial writing. Or washing. Depending on how you look at it.

Which is why I take the extra time between washing and posting.

I have a feeling this week will be very productive. SATE proposals included. There’s something about my current setup – where my living, working, and coffee spots are all within five blocks of each other – that incubates a comfort which breeds a focused productivity.

And as long as I’m making excuses – let me just elaborate. The drive out from Bozeman was fantastic. That’s mostly to do with spending the night camping at Theodore Roosevelt National Park.

As I drove to my campsite, I suddenly and unexpectedly found myself high on the plain engulfed within a prairie dog colony. Not something I ever planned to do in my lifetime, but there I was. And it was amazing. Hundreds of prairie dogs, actively dipping in and out of their holes. And they chirp at each other – like a chorus of squeaky dog toys.

I spent a few hours pitching my bivy and tarp. I had the supplies, but hadn’t used them before. I was surprised how quickly I took to knots, to get the guyline on the tarp. I was even able to tweak the tentpoles – which were about 4 times bigger than want I needed – to something usable.

It’s a pretty great setup. Except you can’t really change clothes in it; it’s not intended for that. Which is fine when you’re on the trail. But not acceptable on a wide open campsite surrounded by families. I honestly hadn’t really thought that through when I decided on my gear.

Needless to say, I changed in a stall in the campsite bathroom after a quick shave and sink-washing.

After setting up camp, I drove around the park. It’s probably my favorite national park yet. Mostly because of the texture of the soft sandstone hills and bluffs. Like rusty mini mountains. It also feels much less crowded than some of the other parks I’ve been to.

It’s more intimate. More personal. And for that, I like it best.

As I was driving back to my campsite, I came across something I had never seen before. A wild buffalo.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt more American.

I spent Sunday driving across the great plains of North Dakota and Minnesota. Easily arriving in Minneapolis without incident. And several chapters further though my Harry Potter audiobook (Order of the Phoenix).

Being on the road for such a long period of time is about flexibility. It’s about constantly living outside of your comfort zone. And not just surviving there, but thriving there.

I’ve been on the road for more than six months. When I tell people that, I realize the tone I say it in reflects a certain authority. It reflects my feeling that I’m no longer quite new to this. Somewhere after month four I left the realm of perpetual vacation.

And now, it seems certain. This is my way of life.

I fear that it will be over before I know it. I’ve already planned out my travel for the rest of the year. Though I’m sure there will be the need for a few ‘reactions’ along the way.

It seemed to take so long to get through six months. Now it seems like the next six months aren’t nearly enough time.

As I get more comfortable with camping, I’ll find more and more opportunities to drop my living expenses as well. Anywhere there’s a KOA, there’s a comfortable place where I can stay for $30 a night with a warm shower in the morning – not at all too dissimilar from my hostel experiences, or my Montana experience.

In some ways camping’s preferable to the hostel experience, although the latter is better in the urban environment. And as far as I can tell, most of my remaining destinations are fairly urban, with a couple of exceptions.

That’s not saying all the weeks need to be camping weeks. But some of them is not a problem.

As for this week, I’m comfortably situated in my airbnb. With quite a bit of space. And air conditioning. That’s helpful now that I’m back in that Midwest humidity – the heat index hits 105 later this week.

And the in-unit washer & dryer – where this week’s wash is just about dry – doesn’t hurt either.

Depending on how things go, you may hear from me yet again before the week is out. It all depends on what comes my way.