Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock.
Well this is getting old and I am pretty sure this giant cluster-cluck of a mess is beginning to effect my mental and physical health. Yup you guessed right still no word on if I have a job in the future or not and by the time you read this, I will have exactly one week until my lease is up and I am forced to move. Great times huh? What's made it even better is that now I have no leads lined up on where to live! The apartment complexes all want leases to start in June so they can charge more, so there are literally NO availability openings in May. Well, that's a lie there are some available, for a year long lease I can have a crappy ground floor apartment for the low sum of $700 a month. Yeah thanks. I'm about to lose my job and you jerks are still trying to lock me down for a year. No thanks. Unfortunately this means there is also a flood of people looking for rooms (you know since we can't get apartments until June) so all of my prospects for getting a room have yet to pan out. The countdown to homelessness continues ever downwards. Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock.
This whole situation has devolved into a big mess and has left me emotionally drained. I am angry, frustrated, impatient and depressed all at the same time! (maybe drained is the wrong word, then) I look at my growing pile of boxes and my impending crisis and say “What's the point!” and mope about for the remainder of the day. Packing up and moving ones life is usually a reflective exercise, one in which you stumble across things you had forgotten, reflect upon the memories and then promptly stuff it inside its box. It is an act that to me resembles a cataloging of ones life, a survey of memories and accomplishments of the past while looking forward to the future. Unfortunately I have none of the pleasantries of looking forward to the future, all my job applications, all my emails asking about rooms are all met with the cold indifference of the internet. Leaving my future with one, poinant question mark (I imagine it inset against a yellow box with presents inside). I have no leads, no future if you will and I am stuck holding onto this pile of memories and little else.
The obvious question is “What am I doing here?” it is a question that I have asked nearly since the day I arrived and is one I have not been able to answer with any satisfaction. Why was I brought to this place? What was the purpose, the reasoning? I don't know. It is something that is beyond the scope of my feeble, mortal brain. Well then why don't I just leave? That too is a valid question and one I would readily pursue if I had any place to go to. It would take very little to get me to leave, hand me a steady job offer and I would pull up stakes and go (in fact my stakes are pulled at the end of the week, regardless!) but my months of job searching have been unfruitful. I even considered missionary work but apparently I am unsuitable for that as well. What am I to do then aside from face the coming storm, grit my teeth and bear the brunt of it? I just wish I didn't have to do it alone.
Well I have much packing to get done and more people to hit up for rooms so if you will forgive me, I will cut this short. What will next week bring!? Hopefully a job. Hopefully a lead. Hopefully a way out. If not? Well I can always post from a Starbucks! Storms come and once they are done making a mess of things they leave. This storm will pass and I will wake one day to a bright and shining future, until then I must rely on my faith, trust in God and go where I must. Sayonara.
