Saturday the 21st.

While the bed and room service was wonderful, I can't say that I woke up refreshed. I would have to be totally relaxed for that to happen. I had a mission and that mission was not yet complete, no time for relaxin’, I had some more road to be on again.
As I think back on this morning (a full three weeks later) I honestly don't know if I truly knew where I was and what I was up to. I think I had to hide the main purpose of my trip from my deep deep psyche. My ID. You know how often I travel, I kept my mind in travel mode; mainly because I had to shut off the part of my brain that knew damn good and well what I was up to. I think had I really told myself what was up…I wouldn’t even be telling this story. I would still be working for the old company mildly unhappy and living in my house in Colorado. Sometimes ignorance truly is bliss.
While waiting for Betty to be brought up from valet a rather buff looking security guard starts a conversation with me. I told him my story about moving to Burbank and how I just got in last night from Colorado. He seemed impressed of my driving prowess. He told me he went to college in Utah and played football there. Brigham Young? I asked. Southern Utah state or something like that. Looking at his dark chocolate skin I surmised that he was neither Morman nor born in Utah. (Sometimes I am very un PC that way. I don't mean anything by it. I just call ‘em like I see ‘em) He laughed and said he was born in the south. He proceeded to tell me stories about being a body guard for this famous person and that famous person (blah blah) and if I were ever in sin city again, to look him up. So I’ve got that going for me 
Back on the road, I continued the saga of Bilbo Baggins and that pesky ring of his. (here is were I suggest books on CD for all my friends who find themselves with a long road trip in front of them. It really helped pass the time) I filled up with gas and diet coke. I still had some chocolate donuts from the morning before so I was good for breakfast.

It didn’t take too long for me to arrive in Burbank. I had a few places I wanted to check out, so I started the process of calling. One place I called seemed to be closed on the weekends…wha???!! I called and left a confused sounding message...”you’re closed on the weekends????????” Hopefully they would hear this on Monday and be ashamed of missing out of having me for a tenant. (ha)
The other two places on my list had already been rented. Another wasn’t going to be able to show the apt until Sunday. This was not looking good for Meghan. I did have one place to look at in Glendale just off the 5.
I pulled into the driveway. When I got out of the car I had the strange sense that I was still moving. It took me a few moments to get my sea legs (as it were) Is that normal?
Anyway, the front looked ok. I walked around back to see my potential new home.
Picture a Motel 6. You know how it can be two stories, with the iron railing around the top balconies…doors on the outside. I felt my heart drop. I wanted to turn right around, but I didn’t just drive 1300 miles to just turn around. Besides, maybe it was cool on the inside.
While it was big…it was not cool. Neither in the temperature nor Fonzy sense. I looked out the window of the bed room and instead of seeing Garden of the Gods or Pikes peak…I saw a gas station. I nearly cried. I had no other apartments I could see and I was not about to live here. I had 24 hours to find a place and not a clue how to go about finding one. I walked out defeated but not yet out. Back in Betty I tried to get a game plan. I had no where to go. If I could get back on line, I could look for more places. I went to the only place I knew…downtown Burbank.
To my surprise there were banners everywhere saying that downtown Burbank was wireless. Success! I parked my filthy bug (from all the snow she encountered in Vail Pass only a day ago) unearthed my backpack from the mess of boxes in the back and went in search of a satisfactory place to lunch. I wasn’t hungry but figured a diet coke and three little chocolate donuts 5 hours earlier weren’t quite gonna do it. I found my spot, ordered my lunch and got on line. There were several wireless networks to choose from, but not a single one worked. I would eventually get kicked out after 5 minutes. My good friend panic pulled up a chair beside me, ordered a drink and asked how my day was going. (UG) I saw my very deliberate time line slip away. In hind site it all seems so silly, my histrionics. Mind you I have been alone with myself for 3 weeks now. I needed a calm head and I wasn’t going to get one by looking in the mirror.
I called my future colleague for help. She said she would be willing to help me look for places and gave me her cell number. Sucker!!!!
She told me of a town house that was in the highest part of my comfort range price wise. I called that number, it was rented. I called the colleague back, she then told me to just drive around and look for places in a particular neighborhood. So, that is exactly what I did. I called a few places and left messages. Does no one in this city work on the weekends???!!!!
Finally ONE guy answers his phone. We have a few available for you to look at he says.
I went to the first one. It was ok, nothing special, looked a lot like the standard apartments that all my loser friends got when they first got out of high school…you know the ones, plain box with boxes for rooms and a box for a bathroom and a rectangle for a kitchen, they thought they were cool…but I knew it was just sheep lodging. I always knew I was better than sheep cages. The second one…it was wonderful!!!!! Different floor plan, boxes yes, but with built in cabinets and low and behold….when I looked out the window…a view of a mountain (ok…a foot hill but that was an easier stretch than the gas station would have been)
I called the land lord and said OH MY GOD I”LL TAKE IT!!!! He was pleased. Just then someone came through the door. It was a maintenance man. This made my land lord pause.
Are you in apt 101?
No, I’m in 201.
Oh, you’re in the wrong apt.
Sadly I left the wrong apt and went to the right apt.
The right apartment was still the wrong apt (for me at least).
Nothing special about it again. What is more, the stairway to my place was enclosed (that is to say the building walls were right there. I couldn’t even stretch my arms out wide, I’m no Michael Jordan(remember that poster of his wingspan?) and I saw the implications. I asked if people had issues moving stuff, he said no, but I was dubious. I declined.
A third apartment was available but the tenant was still there so I couldn’t look at it but it was the identical twin to the first one I say (the box upon box upon rectangle)
By this time ‘Get-apartment’ was so engrained in my head that when the land lord suggested I put some money down to secure the apartment, I just did it. Fine. It is done.
I want that task done as I was done. The movers will be in Colorado on Tuesday and I need to tell them where to drop off. So I said I would take the one with the tenant still in it. That one was on the upper floor…I just didn’t want anyone living above me. I signed the papers with out really seeing it. Two beds, two baths underground parking and a dishwasher. Washer and dryer in the complex. It was not my dream place by any means, in fact…was it not a sheep cage? Do I have to say again how desperate I felt? I have to say, signing the papers and knowing that I had a place to dump my stuff, took a lot off my shoulders.
With that windmill successfully battled, I drove to BJ’s (a brew pub for those of you with dirty minds) and sat in the parking lot for a bit of time stewing on what I had just done, the implications of taking a place so soon and whether or not I should go into the pub.
I wasn’t debating if I were hungry or if I actually needed the beer I kept telling myself I needed but because I didn’t feel like I belonged there. I felt so sore-thumbey. Surely everyone knew I was an outsider even though I am leaser of a lovely sheep cage. California was never my happy place, what the hell am I doing? I belong in Colorado. I feel a connection there. Then I got mad at myself for letting a state and a perceived state of mind tell me I wasn’t good enough and who’s to say I won’t connect here. Plus, you never know until you try McGuinness. Sounds like psyc 101 but all I had to do was tell myself I couldn’t do it. Against my better judgment, I dragged myself into the pub, sat at the bar and ordered a beer. That first beer…Mother’s milk!
Nearly in tears, I called my friend who lives in Santa Monica and asked her how soon could I get to her place. I need a friendly home base (for at least 36 hours)
Thank god for her.
She has 18 month old twins of her own, and that weekend she had her husband’s kids from a prior marriage, a girl and a boy who are just wonderful…still in grade school…I’m not good with ages.
So Saturday night was nice as time was spent entertaining them and not my over stimulated project managing brain.

Sunday was simply hanging out at my friend’s house and playing with the kids. I remember at one point, the older kids were wanting to play and the younger kids were being fed. One of the babies wouldn’t sit in her high chair, she kept standing up. I was sitting right there trying to move money from one bank account to another, get all the required paperwork together, organize in my mind what was next and to prepare for the step after that. I was stressing about the move and the time frame of it all. The babies were screaming the older kids were not being bad but wanting attention. I felt bad for my friend because I was no help at all. I felt I should be helping her with this brood of hers but I could do nary a thing.
The babies were crying, the kids were ‘hey watch this’
I felt myself snap. Seriously I felt something go ‘twang…boi-yoing’ (insert cartoon sound effects here)
Luckily it was an internal snap and all I did was put my head in my hands. My friend saw this and said ‘it’s all too much for you isn’t it?’ I started to cry as politely as I could (without making a scene) It was too much.
I slept on their couch again that night (thank god I brought my pillows…some bit of home) I woke up at 4am to catch my 6am flight out of Burbank. I was on my way back home…for the last time.