When I first conceived of this blog, it was the high-flying adventures of a single gal with her own house, career, cats, and home repairs. There were going to be stories of how I decided I needed my own house, my search, and each of the projects I took on, with pictures and missteps along the way.
Then my job let me go, and I became more detached than ever.
In the week since I was told I was not coming back, I've had every idea from retraining as a computer programmer to stocking the shelves in the middle of the night at a well-known chain store (which I'll be doing starting Monday, it turns out). I've thought about renting out a room and despaired at the paint (and other) stains on my carpet and the questionable electricity. I've tried to clean my ancient kitchen linoleum. I've learned through examining my bills that the window air conditioner really doesn't take that much electricity so it's worth it to be able to sleep at night.
And, yes, I've cried a lot because it turns out that teaching isn't the stable, always-in-demand job that it once was. It took me two years to get the job I had, and I only had it for a year and a half.
I also managed to break one of the planters in the picture. Those things cost $100! Oopsie.