Dumb Move

I'm not sure why I haven't mentioned this before now; like Ron Burgundy, it's kind of a big deal: I'm moving tomorrow.

I'm moving out of the Happy Times's house in the suburbs to live with The Long-Dater Goober and her previous and my soon-to-be roommate, Sneezy. (I'll come up with better nicknames later, I promise.) We're moving into an apartment on the north side of the city, just off the Red Line. It's in a decent neighborhood, and I'll finally fulfill my wish to actually live in the city.

While I'm pretty excited about this move, I'm also really nervous. I came here a year ago with only a few hundred dollars and no job prospects in a faltering economy but with some trusty friends to rely on. This time I'm moving with only a few hundred dollars and no job prospects in a full-on recession and no one but myself to fall back on. This is, without a doubt, the stupidest literal and figurative move I've made in a while.

So, if you've got some extra luck laying around, send it my way. Or if praying's your thing, please mention me to your deity of choice. Well-wishes and heaping helpings of hope are greatly appreciated. I'm going to need it.