Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Chapter Two

Chapter two of my so called story involves me and Jarrod living out of a suitcase for many many months.  When we decided to move back "home," our original plan was to rent a place.  No, I take that back, it was to live with my mom just until we could find a place to rent.  So, two months tops.  That was before we realized that there are no apartments to rent.  Okay, maybe a couple (as in 1 or 2) but nothing that we liked.  We were use to living in Nashville, where there was an apartment on every block.  We got back and hit reality.  Okay, no problem we thought.  Just find a house to rent.  Surely that would be easier.  We got the newspaper every night it came out...nothing.  We talked about it, and decided if we were going to be living here for a least a good amount of time, long enough for Jesalyn to go to school, we should probably just look at buying something.  So we got ourselves a realtor (a really awesome one at that: hi Julie!) and started the hunt for a home to call our own.  We relinquished to the fact that this would mean staying with mom a little longer.  You know, "just until we found something.  Surely that wouldn't take too long."   Needless to stay, we are still looking at houses.  The few that we've even liked enough to consider turned out to be less than spectacular. 

This all doesn't sound too bad right?  I mean, staying with mom.  Home cooked meals, free child care, and even a free laundry service.  We pay a little in rent each month, but we don't have to pay for utilities and anything else that comes with having your own place.   But, let me set up the arrangements.  Did I forget to mention that my little sister is living there too?  Oh, and did I tell you that she has a one 1 year old that also lives there...and yeah, and her boyfriend too?  So lets count that up shall we.  1 house + 8 people (is anyone good at math?) = CRAZYNESS.  Not to mention that my sis was there first, so out of the 3 spare bedreooms, she had two of them occupied (one for her and one for my neice.)   That left one room for Jarrod, Jesalyn and myself. The good thing is that the bed in the room is a queen, the bad thing is that the bed takes up the. entire. room.  Literally you guys.  We have maybe a 4ft x 3ft space to walk around.  Oh yeah, how could I forget.  My sister also has a dog, a partially inside dog until we got there.  Ten cool points to whoever can guess what this dog picked up about 3 weeks after we moved in?   Yep, you guessed it.  Fleas!!!  And fleas and I do not get along.  In a matter of days, my legs were covered in bites (update: after many, many different treatments, we think we got rid of most of them, but every so often I find one on me just teasing me with another outbreak.)

We were able to fit one dresser in the room for clothes but really, how many clothes can you fit in 5 drawers?   So it basically breaks down to Jesalyn getting 2 drawers, I get two drawers and Jarrod gets one.  I have a duffel bag for my undies and bras and the rest of Jarrods clothes we try to keep folded and layed on the floor.  I know I don't have to tell you that the clothes do not always stay folded so you can imagine the mess.  

Let me preface this by saying I love my momma.  If you've read any of my blog you know how much she has helped us out.  I even love seeing my sister and adorable niece every day. The first couple of weeks were actually kind of fun, but what's that phrase? Twos company, threes a crowd?  I don't even know where to start on eight. 

This has been our lives the past five months. Things are looking up though.  My sister and her boyfriend found a place to rent last week so I've been able to move Jes's clothes to another room.  That gets mine and Jarrod's clothes off the floor.  Also, we are looking at another house this weekend. Cross your fingers for us?!

Friday, September 7, 2012


How do I even begin to start telling you about the past however many months it is now that we’ve been back in the good ‘ol state of Illinois? I guess the best place to start is where every good story starts: at the beginning. The beginning of 2012 started out like any other crazy year we’ve had since being married. I was working full time, Jarrod was working, and little Jesalyn was in day care. We were in Nashville, the place we so desperately wanted to get back to after moving away for a year and half. Life wasn’t perfect, but we were doing it. Living the dream, also known as scrapping by, paycheck to paycheck, but we were doing it without help from anyone but ourselves. As the months went on, our precious little savings account started to dwindle, but we were determined to stick it out. Something would come along, we told ourselves. I was really hoping for a promotion at work, one that, in my opinion should have already been given to me. I had had a few interviews and just knew it was in the cards for me.

I got passed up for one job, and then another. And then, I had heard through the grapevine that I was about to be offered a job only to find out a week later that due to “reconsolidation” they had to give the job to someone else, but “not to worry, you’ll for sure get the next one!” Not only did I not get the next one, but there were some upper management changes and I got stuck with a jerk-butt for a corporate boss. Over the next couple of months, my self esteem at work went from a 10 to about a (-)5. I never, in a million years, would have imagined the situation that I found myself in. I loved my job. Of course, there was corporate junk that you have to deal with in every position, but I thoroughly enjoyed coming to work. I was consistently one of the few on top in sales and felt good about what I did. And then, as fast as a storm blows in, everything changed. I won’t bother you with the mumbo jumbo of it all, but to put it in simple terms, the company changed the way we did things. The change was disastrous. Not one employee enjoyed it, and it was really hard to incorporate into our daily routine. But we tried. We tried really hard. I am the type of person, that if you want me to change the way I do something, I need to understand it. Understand it, work with it, and mold it into something I can realistically do on a daily basis. This did. Not. Work. The company I worked for was big, and it was “do it our way, or there is the door.” I was trying to do it “their” way, but I had to make it fit me for it to be a normal daily task.


So, all this to say, some words were said, some coaching was done, and I came to work and cried for about 2weeks straight. The final straw came when a man, three bosses up, came to my office and reprimanded me until I was crying, yet again. But this time, there were co-workers and customers looking in on what was happening. After he left, unblocking my doorway, I decided that I could no longer do it. This company that I had worked at for 6 years didn’t care a lick about me. And looking at myself, I did not like who I had become. I had always enjoyed work. Enjoyed the feeling of accomplishment when I did something right, and the joy of moving up in a company. This is not who I was anymore. I went home and talked to Jarrod and we decided then and there that we were done. We would move, yet again.

My sister lives in Paducah, and after visiting, we decided that we really kind of liked the quaint town (with the 2nd best coffee shop I have ever been too. The first being the one I worked at in college.) I applied for a job, with a different company of course, and made it to the 2nd interview. I was feeling really good about it. I started to see the light at the end of tunnel and then I got the call. They offered the job to an internal candidate, but to “keep applying because I was the next choice and would be a very valuable asset to their company.” All I heard was “thanks, but no thanks”

We went through all of our options and the one we kept coming back to involved us moving back home where we both grew up. I tiny little town in Illinois. We had family there, a support group of sort. I knew I could not keep working the same job, our savings account was slowing disintegrating, we had always talked about moving back anyway when Jesalyn started kindergarten, and wouldn’t you know it, our lease was about to expire. It was now or never. All the pieces added up. The only thing missing was jobs. Neither one of us had one and we knew with what we had saved we couldn’t last more than about 4 months. After lots of conversation, tears(all from me of course), and praying, we decided to take a leap and do it. It was the only thing that made sense, even without the jobs. We applied for jobs and about two weeks before moving day Jarrod was offered a job. The only stipulation being he had to be there in three days. This meant, leaving me and Jesalyn in Tennessee to pack up an entire apartment and move by ourselves. It was time to put on the big girl panties….or call mom =)

My mom came down and pretty much packed up my entire apartment while I worked, and literally on the drive back I got a call and was offered a job. So now we both had jobs lined up. Now all we needed was a place to stay…..but I’ll leave that for chapter 2 =)

Thanks for reading……

Thursday, September 6, 2012

What dreams may come

      I had forgotten how therapeutic it was to write until I wrote that last post, so alas, here I am again.  Screw the "over your data usage" mumbo jumbo. This girl is gonna write. 
     So, last night I had a dream that I was racing...over bridges. Big, wobbly, bridges.  Now, if you don't know me, know that I'm deathly afraid of heights. I mean terrified.  I have never set foot on a ferris wheel and don't even joke with me about riding a roller coaster.  I have a couple of recurring dreams that take turns replaying in my sleep.  In both of them I am either walking or driving along a bridge.  Every. Single. Time the bridge begins to shake and breaks in half and I am either left stranded or start to fall into the water until I wake up.  Back to my dream last night.  I was running/sliding (you knowing everything is a mishmash in dreams) along all these bridges and not one of them even swayed.  I remember feeling a little nervous at first but after the initial start I coasted right through and won the race.  

I woke up feeling a little energized and felt like I should be taking something from it.  Is this Gods way of telling me to not give up?  Face what I'm facing and it will get easier eventually.  I don't know. What I do know is that I am suppose to get something from it.  It felt like a reassurance of something, which is a good thing because right now anything that shows me that I'm not just wasting my time living out of my suitcase for 5 months is okey dokey with me.  But more on that later.  

Until then, thanks for reading!

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Gone, but not for good

This long lost blog post is coming from my mommas rocking chair at 530 in the morning and being written on my cell phone.  Yes, this has been my life for the past 4 months.  Ugh.  The last four months. Where do I start?  A lot has happened.   So much, in fact, I probably should save that for another time.  But until then, know that I haven't left for good.  Believe it or not, I've actually had people express their dislike for the fact that I haven't posted anything since like March.   I really wasn't sure many people read it. You know, voluntarily.

All this to say, whether its for you or for me, I'm not gone, just away for a while trying to get my life in some kind of order.

And for those of you who read this for pictures of Jesalyn, she is still just as perfet as ever!  I would post a picture of her but I can't seem to get it to work from my phone.   =)

thanks for reading....