Windy City Enlightenment...Part Two

I had money when I got into town, I swear...

Where the hell did it go? *Looks around, checks wallet*

*sigh* It's my birthday and I'm broke, with no furniture. 

But damn, this city is pretty...

It's amazing the things you tell yourself you're capable of when you realize that things won't turn out the way you had planned it perfectly in your head. 

Here is Lesson One in my Windy City Enlightenment series:

~If you move to a city with no job and a "delayed" monetary cushion, act as if you have no money. And when you receive said cushion, keep acting that way. Chicago is expensive. And it eats up your money by attracting you with delicious pizzas and sandwiches and 7-day bus passes (that get lost) and bar-hopping to see Shane from 'The Real World'.

~That being said, don't treat the job search as if you have your pick of the litter. This is a big city, and there are tons of people who think they're perfect for the job you're applying for. So apply everywhere, apply often. And if you think you're "too good" for a job, chances are, you're not. So apply anyway. It'll probably get you out of a quick jam. 

Thus ends this episode of "Windy City Enlightenment". Tune in next time when we discuss...something else that hopefully has absolutely nothing to do with money.

~Pusher. Of. Pens.~

I Call this 'Hell Week'

It starts on the 21st and ends on the 26th, or 27th. Depends on the year. 

I woke up this morning in panic, haunted by a dream that seems all too familiar and prophetic.  It is soon followed by frantic texts to certain people, making sure they're okay. If I call, I'll cry. Hell, if I text, I cry. 

I remembered it's her birthday. She would have been 31 today.  I think back to our phone conversation that night...that year: Laughing, talking about her ability to hold tequila, driving around..

It's also my parents' anniversary today. But I can't bring myself to press the call button. 

The next day is the 23rd. My birthday. I'll be 23. Should I make a wish? No, I'll be too lost in my thoughts of our last phone call that night...that year: She wishes me happy birthday, we talk of my coming back home. She agrees to pick me up that weekend herself. 

Maybe this year Chicago will distract me out of my birthday funk. 

Then it's the 25th. I recall having trouble sleeping that night...that year. It carries on into the early morning of the 26th. I felt odd...I wanted to call her. I had a dream with my dad and I in the living room. We were sad...he hugged me, and I knew someone had died. I thought it was him. 

The 26th. The worst of them all. The ill-fated call that morning 4 years ago, rousing me out of my sleep with a jump. My heartbeat racing, tears coming to my eyes before I could even answer the phone. 

"Tyrie's dead! He killed her!" I hear the broken voice of the strongest man I ever knew on the other line...sobbing.

"What?" was all I could muster. 

I said it over and over and over again, in disbelief. I screamed at the top of my lungs, literally watching the world crumble around me. I was hysterical. I knew I was going to die.  And part of me did. 

Not my sister, not Tyrie. Not my best friend. Not the only one I told everything to. Not the one who promised we would grow old together. Not that one. It was impossible. Our connection was too strong. But I already knew it. I knew it the night before. I knew it a month before. I knew I wouldn't get to have her for that long. I knew from the beginning. 

Like I said, 'Hell Week'.

~Pusher. Of. Pens.~

Windy City Enlightenment...Part One

The lease has been signed, the keys in my hand, utilities on (almost), and I'm still here. Tying up loose ends, making some extra cash, saying my goodbyes. 

The roomie (Bri) is already there setting up her stuff, keeping busy breaking in the appliances and plumbing, I'm sure. 

My last day in this beautifully decrepit increasingly suicidal state: July 17. 

So everyone has a chance to say bye, cuz, you know, I'm not gonna be as accessible. (If that changes up your routine, I do not apologize)

New chapter, new people, new lessons. This is what I hope to find in Chicago.

Wish me luck? It's a long time coming, and I sure could use a little...

Windy City Enlightenment.

~Pusher. Of. Pens.~