Welcome to Texas

I have finally arrived in Texas. I am (salaried) jobless, have no home of my own, and know only two people in Austin and the surrounding areas. Although tomorrow I start training at my waitressing position - which I suppose is my due, since I never really waitressed when I was younger - and I get to have this whenever the craving hits me. Be jealous.It's the Mongolian B-B-Q of frozen yogurt! And yes, I got a little too excited and mixed kiwi and cookie dough on top of coffee flavored yogurt. I still ate it, and I have no regrets.

In light of current economic conditions, it might have been a less than opportune time to quit my job, seperate from my boyfriend and friends, shove all my stuff into a U-Haul, and move nine hours away simply because I've always wanted to live in a city I selected as I would a shirt out of a catalogue. But all indicators let me know that it was time to go, and doesn't the adage state, in some sequence, that life doesn't wait for us to be ready?

So now I'm in a state of transition waiting to find a full time position so I can move into an apartment, etc. But the thing I've learned from moving so much as an army brat is that transitional periods are the best periods to relax and process everything that has happened in recent months and years. Once I can stop itching to go out at night, the relax part will set it.

Lucky for me, the state of Texas made staying in easy, since they took away my Arkansas driver's license, issued me a temporary paper license with no photo, and told me I'll be able to buy a drink again in 5-8 weeks when I get mailed my laminated license, with photo. I think this is a sneaky ploy to impose sobriety on all new residents, but that's just my conspiracy theory. The DMV man even said to me, "Now you can save some money." Do I have "broke" and "lush" written on my face?

I suppose the evidence is hard for me to hide. Although in my defense, one must succesfully bring the gin to one's mouth in order to gain lush status. So I fall short, as is custom.