I’m a working girl

I love my job.

I’m still not really sure what my job is.

But I love my job.

Apartment, apartment, apartment!

The view from our window.

Living room!

Kitchen and dining room. (yeah, we’re working on a tablecloth)

Bedroom! Minus dresser.

Relocation

 

“Every relocation has been a blessing – a source of new challenge and grace, freeing me from old paradigms and opening me to pursue the spirit’s movement in my heart, to seek, love, and serve the God I am only beginning to know.”

-Sr. Margaret M. McKenna

Denver.

These first thoughts on Denver may not be succinct or even readable, but here we go.

My boss talks a lot when she’s driving and then gets lost and then we can’t find our way anywhere but it’s really fun.

The apartment is huge. And nice. So far the only thing we’ve had trouble with is the fact that the oven really needs to be cleaned and I haven’t signed the lease because the rental office won’t call us back.

We met a guy at the grocery store who lives in our building and is doing Americorps. We don’t remember his name, so we’re calling him Zeke. Now I’m never ever going to remember his name.

The sky is really pretty right now. I can kind of almost maybe see the tops of some mountains from my bedroom window if it’s a clear day. But I can definitely see downtown and that’s really cool.

I’m sharing an office with a woman from Ethiopia.

My boxes should come tomorrow I should call DHL to make sure they get delivered.

I’m really looking forward to going to church on Sunday.

We’re stealing internet and need to get onto solving that problem. We’re trying to decide whether to just buy the normal expensive internet or try out the wireless co-op that might be really shady and kind of slow but only costs $8 a month.

My camera batteries are dead, so I can’t post pictures.

Beth is crazy and I love her.

I’m really looking forward to getting my boxes so I have a blanket, it gets cold here at night.

Colorado doesn’t seem far away yet.

I’m sure it will at some point.

It’s a Bad Analogy (Or, I don’t look like Brad Pitt.)

An addition to the long list of things that are strange to say:

“I’m moving to Colorado tomorrow.”

It’s weird that you can move to Colorado tomorrow.

It only takes one day. Less than one day. More like 6 hours. Even less than that if I wasn’t routed through Charlotte, North Carolina.

“I’m moving to Colorado in 12 hours.”

It feels like such a character thing to say. An archetype.

It’s like the scene in the movie where the camera pans in on a group of FBI agents frantically trying to track down the blue GM pick-up truck that they know is the site of the bomb. You’re watching over their shoulder as they review the surveillance camera footage. And then all of a sudden the camera angle switches. You’re looking cutest blond-haired, blue-eyed, firm-yet-cuddly agent (it’s actually Brad Pitt) in the face as it dawns on him. The bomb’s not in the truck. It’s in the bubble gum machine!

And then you’re back in action, papers flying, suited men and women running everywhere, grabbing guns and badges, hopping into cars.

That one moment of realization. Of calm. Of acceptance.

“The bomb is in the bubble gum.”

“I’m moving to Colorado. Tomorrow.”

And then the action begins again.