My New Office aka The Building that Picked Me

I got up early this morning to hush the cat's meow. It's Saturday and a sleep-in day for Randy, who's usually out the door by now. Bugsy's our Bugazoid alarm clock, only he doesn't know the difference between Saturday and Tuesday.

I make my tea and slide the armchair over a bit to get a better view of the sunrise. Now that Bugsy is happy, after chasing the string and eating a bite, he's settled quietly on the ottoman in Buddha-style.

It was another night of restless dream-sleep. This time two friends from high school kept appearing, Carmen and Linda. We were classmates again, only now in college, and I don't remember much else. Except that it was about saying goodbyes. And leavings. Once, I woke up to a cold house and, wrapping the blanket around me, padded down the hall to check the thermostat to find it had reset itself to a chilly 62. I adjusted it and climbed back in bed to snuggle.

It's Saturday and today my chiropractic table gets sprung from storage and moved in to the new office.

Did I tell you about the office? It's right smack-dab in the middle of downtown Dawsonville, on the square across from the County Courthouse. I first spotted it the day I drove out to Bailey Waters to see the trailer. On the way back, I had to circle through the dreaded roundabout, like every car must. Shooting out the other side (after missing a yield sign and getting honked at), I saw, looming before me, this white building on the corner with a For Rent sign.

"For rent!" my heart leapt.

"Nahhh. Too big, too expensive," my brain replied. "But perfect location. We'll file it for future reference."

Long story short, that building, born in 1884, will be my new office. It is much too big and an awful layout for a chiropractic office. Plus, it needs lots of work. I'd given up on it. Let it go. And was moving to find room at a local spa when the owner contacted me. Seems another chiropractor was interested in possibly sharing it.

I met Lou and Laura DeTrinco on a Thursday at the Pool Room, the local hamburger joint/watering hole (and tribute to local legend, Nascar's Bill Elliott). And fell instantly in love. Dr D, a native New Yorker, has been practicing SOT for 35 years and travels, teaching. Laura, his wife, is a feng shui expert and a belly dancer/teacher. She'd run the numbers and was ecstatic over the money energy in this building. Ironically, the money is in the smallest room in the house.

But the location is amazing and the rent split, reasonable. We're moving furniture and my table in today. And painting. One of the rooms is enormous. Laura will fill it with classes of all sorts; belly dancing, yoga, pilates. We'll open it to 12 Step groups for meetings. And anything else to fill it up.

I can't shake the feeling that this building picked me. That Dawsonville picked me. Why is that?

I don't know. And I don't know that I need to know.

What I do know is that I love Dawsonville. Even though my inner cynic, the one that usually runs post-haste from small towns, wants not to. And can find lots of reasons why I shouldn't.

But, as I drive in any direction from the center of this tiny town, I am enchanted. Every road leading out (and hence, in) is delightful. They wind and ramble and are, in places, breathtaking. If you're heading north, you see mountains.

And, I'm hooked.

More often than not, I find myself with a big smile on my face. And joy singing in my heart.