My move to Texas may seem random, because well it was. I wasn’t planning to move out here. To be honest, I didn’t have a plan set up for after graduating culinary school. But I did have a preliminary plan I guess. I was going to DC to visit my friends, perhaps score a restaurant job, and maybe pick up a few clients who needed occupational therapy services so that I could fill in the financial gap that working as a cook would leave. Prior to and during culinary school I worked as an occupational therapist (OT). It’s kinda been my thang for 6 years, and I like to think that I’m pretty good at it.
It was while waiting on the D6 bus in Georgetown that it hit me like a ton of bricks: my nest egg was starting to resemble a pebble and I was about to be up shit’s creek. AKA Sallie Mae called saying that she wanted her money. I reallllly didn’t want to, but it was obvious that I was going to have to explore all of my options and look into getting a job that pays more than the $10 an hour that I was making in the café that I was working at at the time. It was time for me to do the only other thing that I’m qualified to do: OT.
Once I got to the Lab School to visit my ex coworkers and friends, I hopped on a computer and put in an application for a travel OT job. 3 weeks later, I was sitting on my suitcase, praying that the weight of my lady curves would assist my zipper to get around it’s track. It did, and here I am – 2 weeks after that, sitting in a public library in the middle of central Texas, in a small town, population 7,000.
To say the first week was been challenging would be an understatement. Tears were shed, and many phone calls to the parentals and the siblings were made. I moved out here by myself and my closest friend lives over 200 miles away. I didn’t know anyone out here, have never been to the town and could barely pronounce its name.
Prior to my move I didn’t drive. I’m a New Yorker and although I have a driver’s license, I’ve relied on the public transportation system, my bike, taxis and my friends with cars to get to where I need to go my entire life. I actually prided myself on not driving. And then I moved to Texas. I flew into Dallas/ Fort Worth Airport – cool, but then I had to drive almost 2 hours to get to my new home. Yeah, I live almost 2 hours from the nearest airport.
It took me a full 45 minutes to relax my death grip on the wheel, but at some point I was comfortable enough to switch lanes – and even go into the fast lane. I was cruising :-). By the time I got to town, I was seriously proud of myself – I didn’t have to utilize my plan B: drive in the slow lane with the hazards on. That positive emotion was very short lived. Once I got to town my cell phone died and I had to find my way to my apartment by asking for directions and let me tell you, those jokes you heard about country folks giving directions are true. They are HORRIBLE at it! 10 minutes later I arrived. Alive but, tired and anxious to get to my apartment.
“Well…. I hope they turned the electricity and the water on for you. You know that was your company’s responsibility”
That was the property manager, and I guess that was her warning that the water and electricity were not turned on. Because they weren’t. And the furniture that was included in my “fully furnished apartment” ? Well…. There was a mattress and box spring sitting on the floor of my bedroom and the headboard leaning up against the wall. My T.V. was on the bar counter and there were 2 dead roaches on the kitchen floor.
“No… You can’t stay here like that”
No shit… I waved her away and walked out of the door. I’m sure that I looked like the walking dead. My mind was numb and had I surpassed my problem solving threshold about a half hour prior to that. I mumbled something about needing to charge my phone in her office for a second and she agreed begrudgingly. She was sorry to be short on time, but she had family visiting from out of town, and this was her day off. She was letting me into the apartment on a Saturday as a favor.
I was done. Without even looking up, I told her that I would meet her at the office. When she finally walked away, I took a few deep breaths to calm down and prepared to walk to my car. By this time, emotionally, I was on thin ice and then I heard the rustle to my left. I quickly turned to my left and I swear I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or cry. There were two horses staring at me. My neighbors to my left are horses. I got in the car and cried.
View from my front door:
Up until this point, I was sending vague texts to my family about how I was doing so that they wouldn’t get worried. I’m a grown ass woman and I can handle this myself right???? Wrong. Once I started talking to my sister, I started to bawl. She was not happy. Immediately, she put me up in that nice hotel for a couple of nights and didn’t even chastise me for being irresponsible, impulsive…. the list could go on and on. Danielle to the rescue :-) . The next day, I finally got in contact with my company and they paid for the hotel and squared everything away with my apartment. I made it to work on Monday and started my 2 week training. That has been a trip in and of itself haha…. But I’ll tell you guys about it later.
Have a great weekend! I saw this poster at the library. I'm taking it as a good sign for the week to come :-)
