A Llittle More Like Home.

We have almost survived a full week in our new place. Our livingroom is still bare with the exception of boxes. The only big furniture is our bed, dresser, a book shelf, kitchen table and a tv. Our couch still needs to be moved in along with our entertainment stands.

It seems like things are all happening at once, and we already find our selves struggling. My boyfriend's brake cable broke in his car( which means getting to and from work is going to be a trick), my hours as of next week, are decreasing from 33 to 26 and 21 the following week, and we're still trying to figure out how to pay our 200 dollar propane deposit. Panic is starting to set in, and I often find myself nervous about the first round of bills.

The fact that my mom, although she may not be proud of my decision and timing to move out, is encouraging me along, helps out tremendously. I never knew I would have as much support from family and friends, and I can't even begin to describe how much it means to me. Our work schedules are hectic, leaving us with little to no time to enjoy the idea of being on our own. However, we knew this would be the case. Although, it may be difficult and stressful, I have yet to admit I made the wrong decision.

The words of my bestfriend keep scrolling in my head. "If you fear failure, you will never fail." She knows me well enough to know that when I feel like I'm starting to go under, I have no other choice but to swim, and I will do everything in my power to make sure failure is not an option.