Ch-ch-changes

If you’re in the Knoxville area and you see this:

teddy bear

…it’s totally me, toting around the panda my parents gave me a full decade ago. Because my life’s in the midst of some major upheaval and NO ME GUSTA. I just uprooted myself and moved five hours from the place I’ve called home for the past four years—without a job, without much beyond a landing spot in a friend’s spare room.

(It’s a pretty sweet landing spot, to be honest. My friend and her husband are amazing cooks—and they both know full well that I am most definitely not. Plus they have adorable kitties and a dog. Plus a million other things that I can’t quite quantify.)

A couple months ago, I complained about change literally hurting. And it so does, even when you put on your big girl pants and just rip off the band aid. Especially when you realize that copious amounts of hard liquor probably won’t make it any better (and are too broke for copious amounts of anything to be an option). Still, Knoxville is an amazing city and I should be able to find a good job (maybe not a great one, but my jack-of-all trades resume is what it is). Dunno if I’ll be able to find a decent apartment with my credit the way it is, but that’s why they invented individual landlords, n’est-ce pas?

In the market for more adult coping mechanisms, by the way; what do y’all do to make a new place your own?

Image via pixabay

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