I've made myself emotionally unavailable for a few days to assist me in the moving process. I was given cards full of well wishes and photos filled with people that made the last seven months of my life seven of the most memorable. I didn't even know some of these people before I moved to Chicago, and who the hell was I to get so attached in such a short time? Apparently, my chronic-bitch-face wasn't chronic. I would have to work on that.
Had I not simply thrown up some middle fingers to the Windy City skyline, I probably would have been curled up in a ball on the twin bed I bought for $300 and sold for $50 worrying that Ramen will raise their prices. Luckily, I had something very special to keep me moving forward...
my dreams.
No, just kidding. I had a run-down frat house in the Greek capitol of the U.S. filled with a guy I hated in college and two complete strangers. Now that I've arrived, I'm in Heaven. I'm sweaty, exhausted, and confused why the toilet only flushes 3/4 of the time, but in Heaven.
There are a lot of times in my life where I've thought, "I'm not sure how I got here, but I know this is where I'm supposed to be."
Whow...that sounded so gay.
But this is one of those moments. Through the help of a former frenemy and two complete strangers, I feel that I'm where I belong.
Except for the time that guy totally crashed our roomie lunch date and talked about himself for an entire hour...but he was cute, so I let it happen.
Look it to book it,
TJB: Making It
