Life Happens All at Once - Tales from TN Part 2

Note: If you have not yet read "Welcome to TN - Tales from TN Part 1" I suggest that you go back and read it first...

So, I have a little piece of advice - don't buy your first car, graduate from college, "move" home for two weeks, find an apartment sight-unseen, move cross-country to a city where you know no one, and start a new job all within a month! Trying to sort out the registration, TT & L, and insurance for a new car while involving three different states is not the simplest thing in the world to do. Picking an apartment from several states away is not easy either, especially when you have a limited window of time to move in and no backup plan if the one you choose turns out to be awful. Life was rather complicated doing all of those things at one time but somehow with lots of prayer, good advice, a few panicked moments, some faith, and some more prayer that's exactly what I had done.

(Yes, panicked moments. I know, I know. I can hear the scoffing and see self-righteous raised eyebrows. How 'bout you try not to panic when the apartment you are sure God has led you to live in declines your application because you have no rental history. I dare you! Then tell me you don't feel the sweet relief that comes when they call back 15 minutes later to say that their policy had recently changed to allow new graduates to waive that requirement.)

My first couple of weeks flew by in a little bit of a happy blur. I know I worked on unpacking and getting settled into my apartment. I had two first days in one when I started working at my new editing job and the eyeglass store where I had transferred from OK.  I also continued to visit the church that I had found my first Sunday night in Nashville. And Andrea was there for most of the first week sight-seeing, helping me unpack, and just being company after my mom went home.

Isn't it strange how it seems life happens all at once? One day you are confidently cruising along on the still, calm sea of life and then whoosh - a storm arrives and everything happens all at once. The wind is howling and kicking up waves that crash wildly against the sides of the rocking boat. Flashes of lightening nearly blind you and the thunder is deafening. That's pretty much what happened to me my third week.

Tuesday

I had to stay about 30 minutes late for a training session. When I got home, I thought about how my dad had told me to check the oil every couple of times I filled up my car. I realized I hadn't checked it recently and decided to just check it "real quick" right then. I left the car door open and all of my stuff in the front seat so my hands were free. While I was checking the oil, a neighbor drives up and I realized I was blocking the parking space next to me with my open car door. So I closed it.

As soon as I did, I felt a sick, sinking feeling in my stomach. I had found myself locking my door while I opened it. I didn't even realize when I was doing it. Had I locked it? Yes, I had. My keys were sitting right there on the front seat in plain sight. I thought, "That's OK, I have a spare in the apartment... which is locked. And the keys to my apartment are in my car... which is locked."

I ran over to the apartment office as fast as I could in my fancy suit jacket and heels to get them to unlock my apartment. However, due to the fact that this was the ONE night I would ever need to stay late, I got there 15 minutes after they had closed for the night. On to plan B.

I had roadside assistance that came with the warranties on my car. I thought, "I will just call ...no one." My cell phone was in the car next to the keys. So Plan C became to find a phone to call my mom (because she was the only person whose number I had memorized) to get her to look up the number for the roadside assistance. I knew about 5 or 6 of my coworkers lived in the same apartments. I thought maybe I could remember one of their apartment numbers. After nearly an hour of trudging around on what turned out to be the hottest day of the whole summer and after knocking on three wrong doors, plan D became to beg my own neighbors for the use of their phone.

By this point my pleas to God for help were becoming more desperate, but He heard me and was gracious. I found a neighbor who was home and didn't look like the murderous type. She let me use her phone and even sit inside in the air conditioning to wait for help to arrive. It took an hour and a half for the guy to get there but only two minutes to get into my car. I was quite relieved that the ordeal was over.

It was over for the night but not for the week. The week was just getting started.