Sometime in the last three months I forgot that I had a blog. Alright, I don't know if I actually forgot, but once again I meant to blog...and then I just never did...and then I meant to...and then I never did...and the cycle continued. Well, until right now.
I am currently sitting in my old childhood room. It's weird. I've sat in this exact spot probably thousands of times over the years. I've looked at these four walls, and that picture hanging on the wall, and the slightly broken closet door so many times that I always thought coming back would feel just like it always has. But, it doesn't. I'm home, but it doesn't feel like home. While there's always something comforting about your childhood house, this is the first time that being here almost feels wrong. This isn't the home that I created for myself. This isn't the room that I really think of as mine now.
Let me back up.
A week ago today, the inevitable happened and I graduated from college. If you recall, my last post proclaimed that I still had 3 months and some odd days. I'm jealous of the girl that wrote that post. Little did she really, truly know how things would change, how fast time would go, and how complicated life could get in such a short amount of time. Anyway, I've moved back into my parents' house for the summer while I "figure things out."
So, here I sit, staring at the few remaining glow-in-the-dark stars I stuck to my ceiling when I was in the sixth grade, trying to formulate a plan. A plan that is realistic and achievable, yet adventurous and bold. Everyone says you figure out things in due time. Well, I had hoped that "due time" would have happened by now but, hey, we're all just winging it.
Here's what I know. I'm interning as a campaign manager for a man in my town who is running for mayor. I'm sadly not getting paid, but I get the fancy job title and resume boost and will hopefully be able to make some good contacts and gain some awesome experience. But, I also need to make money because girlfriend's got bills to pay and needs to save everything possible so I can have more than $30 in my bank account and actually have the means to move out of my parents' house.
What I don't know is how I'm going to make said money. Or how long it will take me to save up enough to move. Or where, in fact, I'll move to. Or what job I'll be doing when I get there. This, I suppose, is what I'm supposed to be "figuring out."
I'm all about keeping my options open, but my OCD needs something to work with here. Therefore, my plan to make-a-plan-that-figures-out-how-I-will-make-money-and-how-much-money-I-need-to-get-out-of-my-parents-house-into-a-place-that-isn't-a-cardboard-box-and-how-to-support-myself-once-I'm-there is officially underway.