Seven days ago I was on the road to where I am. Driving 27 hours nearly straight through, I was determined to reach my new life, my new adventure, my new address. My soon to be landlord called me impulsive, reflecting on the lack of time I had given on finding my new home before calling it such. Regardless of his awe, the lease was signed that afternoon and I slept in my bed that night. By the next day the truck was unpacked. Our new life had begun. Previous worlds still haunt my dreams. Some I cling to foundly, hoping to keep good memories of good friends intact. Others are non-bloody nightmares reminding me of the reasons we left, the lack of life we were living. Seven days of unpacking, filling up new shelves, new closets. Seven days of exploring new neighborhoods, new stores. Today I take the next step: a new job. I keep feeling I should run to the nearest office to work the phones, sit at a desk, type in words that mean nothing. But this is my new life, a new job is what I will find. I will have fun at this new job, I will enjoy the people I work with and work for. My customers will be happy, for my new workplace will not be somewhere they dread. It will have life, and they will be living, not fearing. I will be rewarded for hard work, without the backlash of jealous coworkers fearing their own positions at stake. It will be everything I didn't leave behind. This is my new life. One week in.
- Posted on the go, with help from stuff & bunnies.