"I'm sorry, I've never done this before," I said to the AT&T girl while I was trying to set up my internet.
"That's okay, honey, we've all been there," she consoled.
I've lived on my own before, but never really on my own. College was four hours away from my parents, but I lived one semester at a time. Things like water bills and internet fees were included in the housing costs and everything was gravy. After graduation, I moved back home to save money for my mission. And as a missionary, I relied wholly on the goodness of the people in my area. Senior mission couples made sure that we were completely taken care of and we were often fed by the members. I mean, there was a lady in one area that would do our laundry every single Monday because she felt like that's how she could help us in our work. I was so richly blessed. While I had plenty of worries while I was on my mission, temporal concerns were never among those.
Friday the 14th was the first time I'd ever been to Austin, my new home. I am no stranger to moving, having lived in a total of fifteen different places as far back as my memory extends. The longest has been five years, the shortest was only three months. I crave the change, but I hate the adjustment period. That's really the best way I can define how I feel right now. Adjusting.
Mom and Dad stayed here the first few days. We went grocery shopping a week ago and I stood in the bread aisle, feeling utterly overwhelmed. (That's really saying something. Usually the smell of the bread aisle calms me right down.) The last time I truly grocery shopped was back in college... and I graduated two-and-a-half years ago. I bought ground beef and promptly forgot about it, only to pull it out a few days ago to find the edges graying, which I'm pretty sure isn't supposed to happen.
I'll get the hang of it soon enough--I always do. I know how to find Target and the library, which are my two rules for survival. Everyone I've met has been extremely nice, which has made the transition infinitely easier. I was delighted to discover that Texans really do say "y'all" all the time. (A discovery akin to when I arrived in Canada and heard an authentic "eh!" I'll never forget that feeling.) In the meantime, I'm going to work on carving out a routine for myself, find a job, and focus on the things that I KNOW I know how to do--starting with chocolate chip cookies.