Last night, as I unpacked my things and set them on shelves and in drawers in the guest bedroom (once my bedroom) in my mom's house, I inexplicably thought of one of the last nights I'd spent there. It was the end of May. I'd just graduated, moved out of my apartment downtown, and was spending a single night at the house before moving to Wyoming the following day. My rat, Cassie, and I were sitting on the bed, late that night, wondering what life would bring.
Cassie wasn't doing well. She'd go through periods where she'd breathe heavily, seem disoriented, uncomfortable. That night she was having one of her worst episodes yet, and as she lay in my lap panting, I pleaded with her, begged her to hang on for just four or five more years, so that I wouldn't have to face Wyoming alone. She did her best, stuck around for four more days, but I still ended up in Wyoming by myself.
The fact that I recalled that particular moment in time last night, and in such vivid detail, was unsettling. It highlighted the fact that even though I'm no longer facing the dilemma of an unfamiliar place, my future is just as uncertain now as it was then.
Debbie asked me to move out. I'd been in their house for nearly two months. The request came suddenly, early one morning in the form of a brief but all-too-clear email. Later, she would explain that, although I was a great house-guest and took on more than my fair share of chores, she felt the arrangement was too "nebulous" and that the boundaries between paid work and work in exchange for rent were becoming unclear.
I also imagine that Trina had a lot to do with the change. Trina controls her entire universe (and everyone in it) by what she tells her mom she wants. If I look at Trina the wrong way she runs to her mom, and Debbie wants it changed, immediately. Marlene and I talked this past week about the ways in which I've been "interfering" with Trina's world-- telling her to put her phone away and stop sending text messages while riding or while I'm tutoring, asking her to watch her language, or alerting Debbie when Trina is lying to her or doing something dangerous. I imagine that Trina had, in response, been telling her mom that she didn't like me living there, which was part of the impetus for the change.
So yesterday, for the 13th time in fewer than five years, I moved.
In exchange for my leaving, however, Debbie offered to continue to employ me, five days a week, in the barn and tutoring. Though the commute will approach 40 minutes one-way, I think that the arrangement will work more smoothly. I'll be farther removed from Trina's manipulative moods and temper tantrums, Debbie's instant-action personality, and the chaos generated by the two of them living in the same place. In addition, I'll have more of a "real" job, with semi-consistent hours, decent pay, and more job security than is typically found in today's job market.
In the interim, I'll continue to anticipate response from graduate schools. Having finished all my applications several weeks ago (yay!) I've now reached the "wait" part of the hurry-up-and-wait game. So, for now, I'll go to work five days a week, ride, tutor, work with the dogs, and return home in the evenings. I'll get two days off a week, and make enough money to (hopefully) cover my expenses and fund my 14th move... to grad school.
I hope.
