I am an amoeba in a world full of boxes.
I am a nerd, a coffee snob, a knitter, a writer, a photographer, an artist, a musician, a lover of literature, a lover of people, a lover of Truth, a seeker of Knowledge, a fighter, a lone wolf, a terrified twenty-something, a fractured mind, a strong soul, loyal to a fault, socially phobic, philosophically inclined, and frequently paradoxical.
These are my thoughts.
I am not a risk taker.
It’s true. I like to imagine that I am an adventurous sort of queer, but really, I’m not. I don’t mind change; I might even welcome it, at times. But I like my life predictable. I like being able to make plans and carry them out and to know in advance what my next step is going to be.
So now I am left wondering how in the world I ended up here, days before the end of my lease, moving to a new city in a new state, with a job but without a home.
My partner and I are in the process of moving from the Twin Cities to Chicago, and while we both have jobs lined up, we haven’t actually gotten approved for an apartment yet. We put in applications on a place we love, and we’re hopeful that we will get it. But that’s not a guarantee, because we’re both in a somewhat tenuous (or at least not-the-best-paid) employment situation, and while we’ve done what we can to cover our bases, promising to pay extra months’ rent up front and getting assurances of assistance if needed from family, when all is said and done we are still relatively recent graduates trying to get on our feet and start a life in a new place, and I can understand how that might look unpromising to a potential landlord. My old lease is up at the end of the week, and I am currently beyond overwhelmed by the amount of cleaning and packing that needs to happen between now and then, and by the thought of finding places to stay until we get an apartment of our own. Even if we are approved for the place we applied to, we won’t be able to take possession of it until the middle of the month. We are looking at, minimally, two weeks without a place to live. And this is terrifying.
I’ve never lived outside the Twin Cities. I’m going to a new city that I’m going to have to learn without a home as a point of reference for where everything else is. I am reasonably certain that I am starting my new job next week, but because my background check didn’t get sent off until the beginning of this week, I don’t yet know what hours I’m working. This is unsettling.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m excited to move. I’m excited to start a new life in a new place. I’m excited that I get to do this with a partner more wonderful than anyone I would have dreamed up for myself. But I’m scared, and overwhelmed, and while I keep saying that everything is going to be okay, I’m not always entirely sure that I believe it.
But things have worked out so far. We have jobs. They’re not the best paying jobs, but they’re enough to get by until we can find something better. We have the most incredibly generous friends who have been letting us crash with them on the multiple short trips that have happened in an effort to find jobs and a place to live. We have each other. Things are moving in the right direction. Finding an apartment has been a nightmare so far, but hopefully the worst is over.
Everything is going to be okay. Probably not tomorrow, maybe not even next week, but eventually. Everything is going to be okay.