I’m starting to feel like a whole new woman, and it’s only been a few days. I got my hair and nails done. It’s amazing what a fresh cut and color will do to your sense of being. My rat’s nest hadn’t been unleashed from a bun or pony tail in over a year.
I was rockin’ an overgrown bob with dead ends drier than the Sahara desert. Woof.
I reworked my morning routine and started to feel more at home. After a cup of joe I’d throw the tennis ball for their two goldens. I’d go on the treadmill or ride a bike down to the beach, and in-between I applied and reached out to as many people, organizations and jobs I could manage before my eyes would go cross-eyed.
I was able to explore the freeway system. Yes, the infamous 405 freeway where the rest of America watched OJ Simpson flee police after the murder of his wife.
I’ve driven many places, but driving in a borrowed car made me more uneasy. If I happened to fender bender with anything, I’d rather with my own car.
I was pleasantly surprised the freeways are a helluva more direct than the construction fiasco ones in Texas. I think got too used to feeling like a mouse weaving through tight lanes chasing the cheese. I forgot it wasn’t normal.
The on-ramps were long, signs were clear and you had an ample amount of time to change lanes to get on the correct exit. Knock on wood, the driving wasn’t bad, and I got more comfortable each time I ventured out.
I also got to dip my toes into the much cooler Pacific Ocean.
And I traveled east out to Palm Springs. Where the rat pack liked to vacation and party.
One week down, and hopefully only a few more to go. I want a job, I need a job, I’ll get a job. Why not me.