Hello all! I'm back to blogging. I apologize for not posting since March 10th, but in my defense I've been all over the place and never really anywhere at all. I've been up in the air so much so that I think I'll just take this post to catch everyone up on my life and all of its "struggles."
Last time I posted, I was currently in the state of homelessness, though I wasn't exactly homeless. I had already started working at the agency in Orlando (which I'm really feeling, by the way) but nailing down an apartment proved to be the hassle of all hassles. I experienced a new level of stress, working, looking at places, contacting my realtor and applying to rent. This was the struggle until I visited the apartment complex a new friend from work called home.
Stacey and I started working in the agency on the same day with the same role, though on different teams. Unlike myself, Stacey was settled in an apartment and well versed in the lay of the Or-LAND-o (see what I did there?). With some fair warning ("It's an older building..."), I visited her apartment and scheduled a meeting and tour with the property manager Friday morning. Arriving about an hour late to work (all pre-approved by my boss) I finally had a place to live, and a rather large place at that!
Unfortunately, I was unable to move into my apartment that weekend. Due to some delays in paperwork (not all offices like to work during the weekends, forcing people who work during normal business hours to run around with their heads cut off) I didn't move into my apartment until Wednesday afternoon the following week. With the help of my friend, Justin (who moved the one large box I brought with me and couldn't move on my own) I moved into "La Casa de Cybill" (unofficial name). That weekend, my parents drove up from home bringing up a few things, but it got even better.
It may be an overlooked kitchen appliance, but it's a rude awakening when you realize your new apartment doesn't come with a microwave. Thus, while my parents were in town, a microwave was a high priority on the list. I am proud to say, I am an owner of a microwave! I also have a kitchen table and a chair and a half built — I no longer picnic on the floor.
While my apartment is very empty, I am in no rush to furnish it (though I'd love to have a grey couch to lounge after long days at work). Part of the reason is the simple fact that I can't afford it (it's a hard knock life, yo) and at the same time, part of me fears really setting down roots. If I ain't got nothing, I got nothing holding me back. It's my fear of commitment, fear of missing out and ever present wanderlust. Maybe, as time goes by, I'll settle down with a couch and perhaps paint a wall. It'll limit the room I have to dance around, but this is a good thing, right...?
Sincerely,
Cybill
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