The P.O. House

P.O. House
03.01.2011

Warning: This is blog is rated PG-13.

So my work had me striving for excellence in Wayne County, Utah. Population 2000, one bank, one supermarket, and a feed store. To the South East are the Henry Mountains which contain one of the two last free range buffalo herds and have the distinction of being the last part of the contiguous United States to be mapped by the USGS.

 And with this kind of isolation, one must ask "where will I sleep?" Through the years field instructors have seen the necessity of having a mutual place to decompress and abode under the auspices of shared rent and the P.O. House is one of these.

Oh just come on in, we don't lock our doors here. This is the communal flop house and heck, I can't remember ever seeing a key. Doesn't matter if your in town for the evening or the week, if a bed isn't unoccupied then it's yours. Don't worry about paying the rent. That is the duty of the person currently in the field whose bed your crashing in. I'm sure he/she/they won't mind, it's only $133 per month.

A good number of souls have passed through the P.O. House. Some have left art or articles of clothing, but all have made their mark on the wall.

The house exists at a consistent

medium of dishevelment and dirt, some where between a college apartment and a crack house. My non-work associates don't prefer to pass time at here because it has a "strange energy." From watching Ghost Hunter I know that paranormal activity can often be sensed by unexplained changes in temperature. If this is true, then what does it say if the inside temperature never rises above 50F. Whatever the case might be, there is a definite energy of many years of booze, sex, and tears. I always feel bloated and lethargic in this place. Well enough of talking about all the creepy paranormal aspects, lets take a look at my living quarters. 

Oh... I guess the conversation is not over yet. The pipe at the top of the picture runs over my bed from the bath room to the street. The sound of others showering is splendid and sometimes it leaks spraying the bed with water. I avoid touching the sheets by using a sleeping bag but a coworker used a pillow off the bed and contracted pink eye. Back to the pipe; one day I was talking about the energy of the house to a different coworker who is very intouch with the universe. I mentioned that everytime I see that drain pipe I get this thought of tying someone to it. He smiled like a Cheshire Cat and admitted to committing a great deal of homosexual acts in that room. Lovely.

However not everything about my room is foul. It is nicely decorated with informative posters from surrounding National Parks and has the best closet in the world.

Oh and if you are wondering P.O. stands for post office which it is adjacent to.

 Food? Well there are plenty of spice packets, peanut butter jars, raisins, and others leftovers from a week in the field. But one thing is for certain, there is never a shortage of beer, condiments, or rotting veggies.