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Previous posts about the Truth about Adventures (or at least mine) so you can catch up.
One (brief background)
Slowly but surely, I am trying to take you back in time through the process of moving because it was blog worthy, trust me. And that’s part of the adventure this blog is about. So yes, today, circle around, my friends, to hear a little story, I like to call: “I need a Bed.”
From the call offering me an interview in San Francisco to my plane taking off, we (because let’s face it, I could not have done this without either of my parents but at this point, when it comes to packing, I could not have done it without my mom) had 48 hours to pack. My mom, oh wise one, decided we should pack one large suitcase and then put into piles what she would send and when, if I got the job and decided to stay.
This felt real. If I had time, I would have been freaking out but every time I tried to freak out, my mom said, “We don’t have time for this.” She was right. So I didn’t get to freak out.
Meanwhile, I ran between my Dad’s house and my mom’s house trying to get the things I needed. At one point, my stepmom stopped me. I looked at her with crazy eyes, so frazzled and trying to find everything I needed. She decided that this was an ideal moment to say something brief, but serious. I will have to paraphrase but I believe I am pretty close to what she said. She was also completely genuine.
“Nina, I am just so glad this is happening so quickly for you so you don’t even have time to think it through.”
I just nodded, as if I understood what she was saying, because hello, I wasn’t going to be able to sleep for the next two days with all the stuff I had to do.
“It’s just so perfect. God knows you so well. Because it’s happening so quickly, you don’t have time to analyze it, or think too deeply about it.”
What are you saying to me????
With no time to analyze these insane musings of an otherwise normal stepmom, because ain’t nobody got time for that, I peaced out.
I fly to San Francisco.
I spend the week with a boy I knew from high school where I clean their bathroom with bleach so I can use it. (I don’t want to get into it and you don’t want me to either.) I need a place by Sunday. So I go on the internet, find a sublease. On Monday, works starts, so on Monday I go to work.
And on, and on, and on it goes.
Each day, there is a very clear immediate need and all I can focus on is that next step, nothing else.
Of course, I didn’t really see this at the time. Probably because I’ve never acted like this in my life. If there is something to worry about, I will find something to worry about. Everyone who knows me personally is nodding their heads together now.
It comes to the point in the summer, where I decide to stay, and need an apartment. So I find an apartment.
This should overwhelm me, especially me of all people, but I need a place to live. What am I going to do? Not look for an apartment because it can be stressful? Insert the rising prices in SF (beating Manhattan in rent, wah hooooo) but now I’m the one solely responsible for an apartment, I could freak out. (Okay so in all truthfulness, I did call my dad crying because prices were so high there was literallly NONE in my budget, even in the bad parts of town but, he had the same, you-need-a-bed attitude. “You have to raise your budget and figure it out, Neen.” 5 points for dads!) After said phone call and taking in the high rents and this great responsibility, I sign the papers. I now sell my soul every month for a studio apartment. But do I have time to freak out? Nope. You know what? I cannot worry about those things. Because I needed, how do you say, a freaking bed to sleep on?
So that’s what I do next.
I buy a bed. I pay some kid with a pick up truck to take me across the bridge to Ikea to pick up my 89 dollar bed that would have cost double to ship and I coordinate the mattress delivery. (Please scroll up and look at that picture though. That’s a pretty nice 89 dollar bed!)
Normally, I would freak out. So many things could go wrong. But what am I supposed to do?
I need a bed.
Ironically, that day at work someone realizes I moved across the country. “How are you doing this job and dealing with all of that?”
I just look at them and say, “I can’t worry about all the extra things. Today, I need to do my job. And I need a bed..”
It then hit me that my stepmom was not crazy at all. (Yay, Karen!) She knew me very well. If I had three months to mull over what it would have meant to move across the country…guess what?
I would have never done it.
If I knew now what it would take to move across the country, even though it has been great and I’ve learned so much, guess what?
I wouldn’t have the guts to do it.
It’s a lot of work when you list out every single thing I had to do and still have to do. Yes, the process is still ongoing a year and a half later.
But when you just think: “Today, I need a bed,” things tend to clear up quickly. Priorities, people, priorities. So even now, when stressed, I try to say this to myself:
“Nina, you need a bed.”
So that, my friends, is the story of my bed.
Love and all that,
P.S. Obviously a major point, in case you missed it, is that it takes a village. My mom and dad were amazing, each in their own unique ways. My nonna and aunt were incredible (more on them and the move later). And I’m blessed to have an extra person in my corner of the village, my stepmom.