A Little Bit Homeless

The following is a re-blog from my attempt at Tumblr. It scares me and I don't know if I like it.

This has been a Big News week. A lot of life-changers are happening to people I know and it all seems to have fallen over the last few days. I am like, people, whatever happened to checking in to just see what’s up? I’m getting paranoid to answer my phone or check my Facebook because it’s probably going to be another piece of Big News and make me want to dig my heels in because I don’t like change. If you only knew the inner turmoil that happens when I grocery store and debate whether I want to stick with the same cereal or try something else. Therefore if something life-changing happens to you that you think I need to know about, try me next week. I have filled my quota for now.

The saddest part is that my only big news is that I am going to be a little bit homeless come July 15th. You might wonder how someone becomes just a little homeless, because it doesn’t seem that homelessness is a thing you can half-ass. It happens when your landlord decides to break his promise of a lease extension and boots you out to make room for a shiny new tenant. Too bad your job goes through the first week of August.

So Mark will go ahead and move to the beach in early July, but I will be left slumming it for a month. Lovely. Luckily when I approached my boss about my soon-to-be nomadism, she generously offered her house for me to stay in. I think part of the motivation is free babysitting, which she will soon regret when she sees how helplessly awkward I am around children.

While I am tentatively taken care of, there is the issue of finding someplace Mark can actually move into come July. In a college town, if it is February and you don’t have somewhere locked down to live for August you need to get it in gear. Apparently, me looking in early May for somewhere to move in July means that I am over-enthusiastic and need to wait until closer to move-in time. This is simply not suitable to my need to have a plan for everything. I get uncomfortable over minor unplanned things, like not knowing what I am going to wear the next day. Not knowing where I am going to move in two months? Please. Stress city.

There is also the matter of me not having a job lined up at the beach yet. I haven’t yet ruled out the possibility of entrepreneurship, like opening a tiki stand on the beach and making a career out of carving famous people’s faces into coconuts. But something a little more legit and less knife-wielding would be preferable.

People question why I am not falling all over myself with unbridled joy at the thought of no longer having to be so pale I am practically see-through and spending half my time in a bathing suit. But I am sure that all of our friends, family, and probably some people that will conveniently try to re-connect with us want us to have someplace for them to stay. Also they probably don’t want us to be so broke that we charge them a rental fee.

And the obligation to spend more time in a bathing suit? Please. If you think that is something that brings me joy you clearly fall into the need-to-re-connect category.

As things settle more into place, there will be joy. It may even be unbridled, who knows. But til then, I am just trying to avoid even a little bit of homelessness.