New Leaves

So, I'm in Dayton. Yes, I'm plussed, but truly exhausted. Not to mention unemployed. I applied at a Wendy's here as just crew, and even with all my experience and knowlege.... they wanted to start me at 6.75 an hour. That just isn't acceptable. I told her that I knew what salary cap was, and that it was 8.50, and she said she 'just couldn't justify it to her other employees' at which point I said I didn't understand how anyone else had to know what I made an hour.

Of course, being unemployed has freaked me right out. I hate it.
The moving process has been crap. And it's not even really begun compared to what still needs done.

The house that my Beloved selected is great. It needs a bit of work here and there, but we figured as much and went for what we *knew* we could get.

Three bedrooms, basement, attic, spacious. Large kitchen with a breakfast nook that has an art deco tile table... and the kitchen is done in yellow. This is nice because I've had a thing for yellow lately. Not like it's a favourite or anything, but I enjoy yellow. A decent amount of cabinet space... 9 foot ceilings.... It's great.

However... it was filthy. FILTHY. I have been using what I call 'ghetto-sol' Which is simply 1 large squirt bottle filled with: 1 part bleach, 9 parts water, 1-2 tablespoons of NON-antibacterial dishsoap. This is so cheap, but it works beautifully. Everything just shines. And depending on the dishsoap you get
the scent of clean can be anything you want. Right now, when you walk into my home, you can smell green apples with a hint of bleach.

The bathroom... we are affectionately calling 'Frankensteins'. One part of the bathroom was done when it was built, and then they remodled... re-mottled is more likely the term. It's truly a hodge podge eyesoar. It looks like a nightmare out of the eighties. And I like the eighties. One of the bedrooms is painted terra cotta. The master bedroom is painted grey and someone did a shit job of using navy blue sponging. The resulting affect is faces and figures that both Mike and I spend a good deal of time pointing out what exactly we see. It reminds me of a four walled imitation of 'The Gates of Hell' by Rodin. (I believe that's who did that... too lazy to check right now.)

The place is old enough, with enough strange noises to give me the heebeejeebees when I'm alone.

The cats are happy to no longer be confined to one room, and are running crazily back and forth, up the stairs, down the stairs.

Oh, and it has a laundry chute. That kicks ass.

The kids are at the house today. M has requested that I not be there 'the first time that she goes to the new place'. Which is what I wanted anyways, but still a bit offensive because well... she doesn't want to meet me yet. Her mother has told her too much of the situation (we won't even begin to go into the part about how wrong it is to confide in a 14 year old like they are an adult). Not to mention that the information she's been getting is biased. So, she may never want to meet me. I have to accept that. Not to mention, she's 14 everything is dramatic at that age. The thing that I am trying to be happy about is that Mike get's to see her. You see, biologically, she's not his. That's never mattered to him. He loves her so much, and there was more than a reasonable doubt that she would be able to visit. I don't mind giving her some space and letting her adapt, but this is the last time that I will be 'asked not to be in my own home.' I will mention that Mike asked me first after M asked him, and this was my decision.

With the holidays around the corner, I am not sure how things are going to work.

I hate being unemployed. Monday, I am taking myself directly to the job center and applying to all the jobs that I possibly can.

Really, I just want to settle in, and enjoy what we've worked so hard to get to.