Let me go back to the beginning

Since I've already whined about it (twice), I should probably explain why and how I ended up in the Sunshine State.

This January, the higher ups at the Holland Sentinel sat everyone down to explain that to cut costs, they were moving the copy desks from all 150 papers across the county to Rockford, Illinois. They called it a Compensation Adjustment. I called it unemployment.




After the anger and resentment started to pass -- kind of, I mean who wants to find out they have been reduced to a figure on a spreadsheet and someone in accounting has decided they are cuttable -- I started searching for a new paper.

On a fluke, I applied to a sports copy editing job in Stuart, Florida. For those wondering where the hell Stuart is -- if it isn't Miami, Orlando, Key West or Daytona, no one outside the state knows Florida geography -- it is about 30 minutes north of West Palm Beach on the ocean side of the state.

I applied on a Sunday and they called on Tuesday to interview me. After a whirlwind 48 hour trip to see the town and tour the office, they offered me the job.

In typical Me fashion, I freaked out, debated back and forth, made a pro-con list and asked every one's opinion. Leave it to my tactful friend Liz to point out that everything holding me back, like the con half of the list, was because I was scared to leave my comfort zone and face the humid unknown. And she was right.

Moving, in theory, is exciting. In actuality, it is terrifying and not for the weak or emotional. It makes the stone-faced ones crumble and anyone with a weaker constitution not want to get in the car. I was so overwhelmed with packing and saying my goodbyes so quickly that I didn't have time to freak out until I was hugging my parents and my dogs goodbye and was actually in the car by myself. I cried the whole first hour I was in my overstuffed car. And I hate to cry.

After a three-day driving marathon in which I got stuck in a traffic backup for 5 HOURS and only missed my exit twice, I made it to my new town and my new bed. I answered an ad online for a roommate and agreed to rent a furnished room from a woman who had lived in Stuart since high school but was originally from Columbia. How weird is that?????

Ninety days later, I have moved out of that rental and am finally unpacking my pictures and books in my own apartment. I am still adjusting to the humidity, the roads and the lizards, but I feel like I am making progress. Everyone keeps telling me it takes time and it won't feel like home or feel real for about a year. I have a feeling they are right. But I'm going to stick with it.