Everything, it seems, is falling into place. It turns out that this move was a Very Good Thing. I’ve just moved into my very own apartment (NO ROOMMATES! NO PARENTS!). It’s the first time in my life that I’ll be living totally by myself. I don’t have a bed yet. Or furniture. Or, well, anything, save for 3 suitcases of clothes. I plan to very slowly start purchasing things as my budget allows, but the bed is most certainly first on the list. It’s a very small apartment, but it’s mine (at least for now) and I couldn’t be happier.
Also: I GOT A JOB, BITCHES. Seven months of searching in Florida with scarcely an interview, and I had a job within 3 weeks of moving to Boston. Not only do I have a job, but I somehow convinced my new employers that I’m totally qualified to supervise people, so I actually have 4 therapists working below me (I NO, RITE??). Oh, and my own office. NBD.
I have been meeting a ton of new people, as well as reconnecting with old friends. The people that are still left up here have been fantastic and have helped me move and picked me up from the airport and helped me when I didn’t have a debit card yet and offered me couches to sleep on and they all deserve copious amounts of leg hugz. The new people that I’ve met are also awesome. I’m meeting people through OkCupid and I’m also looking for meetups and events and finding like-minded people and doing all the things that I never did when I was in Florida. It’s amazing how being in a place that you love can change the way you face the world in such a drastic way. I feel like I’m actually living my life now, as opposed to just surviving it.
I moved up here on a whim. I had two weeks to pack my stuff and find a place to stay. I had only the money in my savings account to get me by, and my parents bought my plane ticket up here and have not helped me financially at all since then. I was unsure how many people I still knew up here, and didn’t really care. I had no apartment. No job. Just some big ass balls. I’m so happy that it seems to be working out for me, and I’m in a Really Good Place right now. In fact, I think I’m in the best place I’ve been in a very long time, if not ever.
So to all you stupid commenters that like to tell me that I have a silver spoon in my mouth (which I never did, but whatever) and call me a privileged bitch because I happened to live at home with my parents and receive financial help from them (grad school’s a bitch, yo), you can kindly STFU now. It may have taken me longer to get on my own two feet than it takes some people, but we all progress at different rates. It is really weird to think that I’m, like, a Real Adult now, though.
Ha! Who am I kidding. I’ll never be a Real Adult. Being a Real Adult requires you to CLEAN ALL THE THINGS, and we all know how awesome I am at cleaning. Instead, I’ll just fool everyone into thinking I’m a Real Adult. That’s what we all do anyway, amirite?