Monday, February 20, 2012

So This is What the End of the World Feels Like

A long time ago, my boyfriend and I had a conversation about our future together.  I informed him that I had very little desire to live in New Mexico forever and offered him a list of alternative cities I'd like to live in.  We settled on Austin, Texas because he had family there and it has a huge video game industry that we could both work for.

Austin floated around as an unasked question for the next several years.  I had pretty much assumed it was off the table so I started finding ways to be happy living anywhere.  I focused my energy into finding a way out of my day job and started freelancing.  I was honestly completely satisfied doing that anywhere, so I was pretty shocked when boyfriend said, "We have enough money to make this happen.  Let's just do it.  Let's move to Austin."  And I'm like, "When?" And he said, "Next month."

I will never turn down a chance for an adventure, especially one involving road trips, so I wholeheartedly agreed to this plan and started setting things in motion to make that happen.

The plan was for him to go down to Austin first and stay with some family while he scouted out an apartment, and then I would hang out up here making money until the end of the month when I could pack up the animals and follow him.

It was a pretty good plan, in theory, but it's not working out very well.

First, the family that he had planned to stay with was just hit with a major crisis.  My boyfriend's cousin's husband was in a serious motorcycle accident a few days before David drove down.  Now he's in the hospital and it's...well, it's not good, although I will say it could be worse, knock-on-wood.  He's having spinal surgery tomorrow.  David's still down there, but a lot of things are hinging on that surgery.  If it doesn't go well, we won't be sticking around in Austin and it'll be time to make a contingency plan.

Hoping that things go well, regardless of where we end up, because spinal surgery is scary and nobody deserve to go through this magnitude of life drama, especially not a couple of extremely sweet 30-something year old teachers.

Meanwhile I'm trapped in Las Cruces in an astonishingly empty apartment.  We packed up all of our stuff except for a mattress and loaded it into a U-Box, which sounds like it should be a submarine but is actually just a storage box that Uhaul can ship for you.

The current contents of my apartment:
-- Several boxes of things I intend to give away to charity and/or friends and family
-- My laptop
-- A few rudimentary kitchen supplies
-- A mattress on the floor
-- A rat cage with five rats in it and a few extra cages I couldn't get rid of
-- Two cats.

And that's pretty much it.  I feel a little bit like I'm camping in my house.  At the moment, the laptop is set on top of a stack of boxes in the kitchen and I'm sitting on a terribly uncomfortable rolling chair we bought at Goodwill for $5.  The house is cold and it echoes.

It feels like I imagine the zombie apocalypse would feel.

So everything is on hold until tomorrow...then we'll see where things lead.  In the meantime, I'm going to keep typing articles about insurance and eating a box of Girl Scout cookies on my own, because I'm not sure what else I can really do.

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