ReCleanse 7-Day Herbal Cleanse Plan

Recently, I’ve been in a cleaning mode. I don’t know if it is Spring Fever, the desire to move, the realization that I don’t even use half of the stuff I own, or simply the fact that I’m missing a few papers to get my taxes done and they are due soon! Whatever the reason, I have been cleaning and sorting through my stuff which led me to an interesting discovery: a ReCleanse Herbal Cleanse that I had clearly forgotten I had purchased sometime within the past year.

I have a passion for studying health-related topics. I’m not sure I intend to go on many “cleanses” as I believe your daily diet can be just as cleansing. However, I am a fan of herbs! So, why put this to waste? Let’s try it out! (I really have a hard time wasting things…)

In this spectacular, refreshing packaging is a set of guidelines to follow for a diet while taking their herbal formulas. The provide you with the serving numbers you are supposed to have per meal according to your weight range. I need to consume 4 servings of low density carbs,  2 servings of high density carbs, 4.5 servings of protein and 3 servings of fat at every meal. This is NOT a typical way that I eat, but for the sake of the cleanse, I shall abide by the rules.

I basically looked at the list of approved foods and tried to figure out what meals I could throw together while still keeping variety. I must say, protein was the hardest. They basically have two suggestions for vegan proteins, so I added a third, keeping in mind that the foods are generally whole foods. They suggested soybean milk and tofu, but I added tempeh as tempeh is a fermented soy product with minimal ingredients (sorry, no fake meats in this one!).

You are NOT allowed to have preservatives, colourings, flavourings, salt, or processed sugars. You are NOT allowed to have hydrogenated or refined fats and oils. No frying, deep frying, or overcooking food. No condiments that have sugar, salt, colourings or flavourings (what condiments are left?!). You can’t have mushrooms, peanuts, farmed fish or yeast (only one exception is made with whole grain bread). No dairy, and no alcohol. My saving grace is that I’m allowed one glass of fruit/vegetable juice a day! But that is ONLY in addition to a full 8 glasses of water. This is a lot! It seems a little overwhelming to be honest, but let’s do it!

My plan for meals is as follows:

Breakfast: Smoothie (2 cups spinach, 2 cups berries, 1 cup banana, 532 mL or 18 oz. soy milk, 2 tsp. almond butter, 1 tbsp. ground flax)

Lunch: Sandwich (2 slices whole grain bread, 383 g or 13.5 oz tempeh, 1 avocado, 1 cup cucumber, 1 cup lettuce, 3/4 cup tomatoes), 1 carrot

Dinner: “Stir-Fry” (1 cup rice, 383 g or 13.5 oz tofu, 3 tsp. almond butter, 1 cup zucchini, 3/4 cup cauliflower, 3/4 cup broccoli), “Dessert” (1 cup celery, 1/2 cup dates)

Yes, I plan on doing this for every day. I’m the type of person that doesn’t usually get sick of food I like, so I’m hoping this will go well! Wish me luck!

Winter Days of Fruitrition 1/7 -Healing Journey Day 63

Journal:
Every time. It honestly happens every time. Whenever I eat too late, and eat cooked foods in the evening, I wake up the next day with pain in my stomach. You’d think I would learn. Anyways…

So if you were paying attention to the title of this blog post, you’ll notice that I jumped from the second day of summer days to a day of the winter days. Why would I switch weeks for a day? Because I had a delivery of 11 persimmons in my Organic Box, and planned on them coming unripe so they would have a week to ripen. Well, they came completely gooey and ripe so I couldn’t leave them for a week before using them without losing them. So I had to put in a high persimmon consumption day out of the winter week in order to use them. Thankfully, Freelee’s guide is easy to follow so it’s not too hard to just pick a day and go. So that’s what I did.

So this morning, I needed to have soaked dates in order to make Datorade. However, I did not have it done and of course, my hungry stomach led me back to the fridge to look for any quick foods I had, which ended up being some cooked foods again. My weakness is the morning and the late evening. It’s time to assess and plan! Fail to plan, plan to fail. There’s a lot of truth to that statement.

I waited a couple hours for the food to digest (and the dates to soak) before I made my Datorade. I put in a little less water than last time and it definitely helped with the flavour. However, I could tell in my gut almost instantly that this was not going to be the greatest. If you’re going to have cooked foods, it’s best to eat them at the end of the day because they digest slower than quick-moving fruits.

After finishing the Datorade, I went to town to pick up a few groceries. As I was out, I noticed I started feeling a little off, actually something like what I would assume low blood sugar would feel like though I’ve never been diagnosed with it. I ended up going to the gym and grabbing a Red Sunrise from Booster Juice. Almost instantly it helped and I felt much better. I’m really not sure what to think of this…

After I got home, I made a large salad using a head of iceberg lettuce, 5 bananas (sliced), and some dates chopped up. Honestly friends, though this salad was super simple and did not have any dressing, it was the BEST thing I’ve eaten in a very long time; so fresh and sweet. It was so delicious and amazing. I cannot recommend it more!!

Later in the evening, instead of going after the fruit I know I should have been eating, I let my craving for cooked food take me over and made some low fat, cooked, vegan food. It’s amazing how addicted you get to cooked food, truly. You don’t think things can control you until you literally live through it. It boggles my mind…

For a late night snack, I pulled the fruit back out. I managed to eat 3 persimmons that were ooey, gooey and sweet. However, I was pretty full with a growly stomach as things started combining in bad ways. People, there is a reason that food combining rules exist, and I completely blew them today. Learn from my mistakes…

I did watch the documentary, Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead today. I had watched it before, but it’s always good to review. It’s such a powerful testimony of what food can do for our bodies in the way of healing. To give our bodies a break and feed ourselves on a cellular level is crucial. I will never regret my juicing days because I know they helped my body. In fact, I felt some of my best on my juicing days and feel like it would be an awesome idea to juice every so often. I highly recommend it.

I also watched the documentary, The Drop Box. Wow… it broke my heart. I believe that God gives life as a gift and it breaks my heart to see so many babies easily “abandoned.” I have the utmost respect for Pastor Lee and what he does. I pray that he always gets the help he needs.

Review of Symptoms:
-Stomach not good from cooked foods
-Acne is bad.
-Energy was decent, but a low blood sugar dip might have occurred….
-Hair is GREASY at the roots and I’m not liking it!

Weight at the end of the day = 169 lbs (same as the past three days)

Total Calories = 2502 (78% carbs, 11% fat, 11% protein)

Why Go Vegan?

Hello everyone!

This is a huge decision, as you can imagine. I want to explain myself as to why I’m choosing this venue. Let me explain my history.

My father was very young when his family went from Quebec to New Brunswick. Speaking little to no English, they struggled for awhile to because accustom to the new province. My grandfather was a woodsmen complete with a team of horses and later big machinery. My father quit school after grade 9 to work with my grandfather. And so the lifestyle of “meat and potatoes” began. Whatever they shot was their meat, and whatever my grandmother grew in the garden was their produce. A very simple, carnivorous life.

Naturally, I grew up eating A LOT of meat. Not because we didn’t go shopping, but I was still a hunter’s daughter, and meat was a regular, every-meal thing. When I was young, it would be no big deal for me to sit down to a pound of bacon myself. It’s a miracle I wasn’t obese!

When I met my first vegetarians in grade 8, I was amazed. This concept that I believed to only belong to celebrities belonged to real life people! I was the only vegetarian in my area, and the lack of knowledge was evident in a quick trip to a hospital with extensive stomach pains. The doctor then informed me of some vital nutrition I was missing, and instead of telling me to eat meat again, told me some vital vegetables I needed to be sure I ate daily.

I was vegetarian for around 10 years. I quit meat cold turkey. My grandfather of course was convinced I was going to die, and was continuously trying to feed me meat. My only family was shocked, but my grandmother on my mother’s side, who has always had an interest in health, was happy. She basically went vegetarian with me! (She never was much of a meat eater).

When I met my husband, he was vegetarian and had been his whole life. My university graduation had led my brother to convince my future husband to try the “real stuff”. From then on, he was hooked.

Eventually, it was the smell of beef jerky that won me back. That smell in my very house all over again won me in. In fact, it opened up the whole new realm of macro counting with my interest in fitness peaking too. With the high levels of protein “needed”, it seemed as if I couldn’t survive without meat. And so I ate meat again for roughly 4 years.

Now, I’ve done so much research. And to keep it short, there is so much evidence that a plant-based diet is the way to go. I would like to think of myself as “getting back to the basics”, naturally. The world of fitness and diet will continuously battle itself. All information can be conflicting. But nothing can deny the way you feel both mentally, physically, and spiritually. Mentally, I’m not hating my food, I’m not worried about going over my “macros”, and I’m not worried about having to stop myself from eating while still feeling like I’m starving. Physically, I feel better. I don’t have to worry about eliminating things to figure out what’s wrong with my body, I get to look forward to younger, more flawless skin. And spiritually, I can feel good about being accountable for selecting the best foods that I can. I can also feel good about my choice not to inflict pain on animals that I myself could not kill. If I couldn’t do it, why do I take part in the process at all?

Some things I’m going to be doing are:
-Trying to buy as much organic as I can
-Continuing my workouts
-Drinking 3L of water a day
-Learning more about, and sticking to food combining rules
-Cutting processed sugar 95%
-Eating mostly fruit until supper
-Eating raw 90% of the time
-Eating until I’m full!

I will keep you posted on my journey! I’m excited for this new phase 🙂

Week 2 Day 3 : A Hard Day

For the first time EVER, I woke up at 4:30 and went straight to the gym! I completed my circuit training and was able to make it home in time to help my husband get ready for work as well as do some laundry and take care of our animals while still getting ready and making it to work on time! What a morning! I also took delight in cooking and eating my breakfast at home, something that rarely if ever happens.

Of course, once I made it to school, I realized the pit in my stomach. My Jewel was leaving today. I was filled with sadness, anger, and several different emotions. I really am trying to stay positive about my neighbours, but I really have little good to say.

The day turned into an incredibly long day. I was at work from 7:30-6:20 in meetings and not accomplishing half of what I needed to. I estimate there are at least 5-7 hours worth of grading waiting to be done and huge paperwork deadlines for the end of the month that I have not had time to do.

Of course with the longer hours, I did not have enough meals with me to fill that time span and I was extremely hungry and tired.

I then became quickly stressed as I knew we were meeting my dad, my sister, and her boyfriend for her birthday supper and also so that my dad could take my baby. The only bad news is I couldn’t get ahold of my husband who was supposed to be coming with me. It was a couple hours before I could reach him.

I ended up packing up the dogs myself, and drove in my car to the restaurant, noticing along the way that I had forgotten some items Jewel needed for the flight and having to make a pitstop.

I was the last one to arrive, and we put the dogs in my husband’s truck with the windows down as people have a habit on calling Animal Patrol on all people, especially with dogs in the vehicle regardless of how they are prepped. In my husband’s tall truck, it is less likely people will climb it to see in the windows.

Supper was good, the food was excellent. I ordered a salad as you can always pick and choose the toppings: get a good chicken breast for protein, a couple nuts for fat, lots of greens and other veggies, and I also had quinoa on my salad for that extra carby protein. The salad was excellent!

We had a good time, but when it came time to say good-bye, I had a hard time. My baby was leaving and this was it. We took pictures, I went through thorough instructions, and did all that I could to say good-bye.

On the ride home, I went alone. My husband had the dogs with him in his truck, and I wept driving in my car. I began reflecting on life and how it seemed such a mess. I thought about how my husband and I are living in a city that we both don’t like, beside unfortunate neighbours, and things seem to be getting ripped away from us without us having any control. We’re both not happy where we are, as busy as we are, with the rules we have to face. The only thing in my life that seems to be somewhat controlled is my diet and the gym. That honestly is all I have control of. The government restricts my husband from school over a paper they refuse to admit they lost. The government restricts me from my babies that I never planned on having but have adapted and made my own sacrifices in order to keep and take good care of them. Those higher than me in my career control the amount of meetings and extracurricular activities I must do which take up more time than I would like to allow with no financial compensation. My husband’s job is controlled by the journeymen he works with and has to work the hours they set out each day. We are stuck in a city where jobs are more abundant to ensure that our bills can be paid since my husband cannot advance in his career without the government papers and thus needs a company that can take him on for now. Everything about my life seems to be controlled by someone or something else. I’m stuck. I’m a mess. The one thing I have is the gym.

And so even though it was late when we got home, we unloaded the dogs, sat for a minute, and went to the gym. The man at the desk recognized me from earlier that morning when he was ending his night shift and mentioned how shocked he was to see me twice in less than 24 hours. I smiled and continued to walk. The gym is the one thing people cannot take away from me. And so my cardio became complete; 12 minutes of HIIT on the stairclimber. And the day was done.

I’m About to do This My 27th Time and I Still Don’t Like It!

Doing something 27 times that you don’t even like seems crazy, doesn’t it? That’s because it is! Especially considering I haven’t hit my 27th birthday yet! And you would have total rights to call me crazy, if it had all been in my control. You see, these 27 same events spanned over my lifetime, starting from my newborn year. These 27 events are the amount of times I’ve moved. And yes, the 27th time is about to happen in less than a week. And no, I’ve never learned to enjoy it. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. I quite detest it.

I’ll take you on a little history ride since it’s the only thing that seems to make sense to me. Whenever I look back on my life, I’m only able to recall the years and ages that things happened because of where I lived or what grade/school I was in at the time. My life has been compartmentalized in my mind because there are so many things involved that it only made sense to tie them to the place I was since those are the smallest divisions I could make. So here we go!

When I was born, my mother took me “home”. Now I call this place home because it was the first place I had known as home and we still own this house today. My mother in fact has done many amazing renovations to it (magazine-worthy kitchen) and is living there now. At the time I was born, my grandparents (her parents) were living there and so she herself went “home”.

Very shortly after, my father had arranged an apartment for us to live in. This was about an hour away from “home”, but it was my mother and father’s first home together. We didn’t stay here incredibly long as my father was looking for a permanent house.

My father did in fact find a permanent house of which he still lives in today. Of course he has done renovations to his house as well, but he is situated on a nice hill where you can eat your supper, look out and see the city lights twinkle in the night. Great location, and I distinctly remember having a blue sign on top of my bedroom door with my name followed by the word AVE. My room was named after me!

Things did not go so well between my father and mother, and after a couple years, my mother went “home”. I can remember my father visiting us sometimes, but they were unable to patch their relationship. By this time, my sister had entered the world and she was a very sick baby. My grandmother and my mother would take turns driving, walking, rocking, etc… all night long because she would cry and cry. My parents of course headed to divorce.

Not too too much later, my father met the man that would become my step-father. This of course meant that we would not leave the town we lived in, but we would relocate to his place. As convenient as it was to go to his place, I loved being able to stay in my hometown. Of course I wished my father and my mother would get back together, but after some hateful months, my step-father did become my friend. The best part about the town is that my family was where. My dad’s parents, his brothers and sister with their families which meant my cousins and I all went to the same school. My mom’s parents were obviously still there. Basically my family was all there except my dad. And I looked forward to the weekends I had with him.

After several years of being “home”, we had to leave my family behind, the only school I had ever known, the closeness I had grown up with (to this point). I was sad, there’s no denying it. We moved roughly 2 1/2 hours away into a rental farmhouse (no barns but lots of land). The house itself was pretty nice, and we were so far in the country that instead of a school bus picking you up, there was a man with a boat of a car that made several trips picking up students along the way. Talk about interesting! I can even remember a lady with baked goods coming to our door as she did once a week to sell her baked items. Talk about country living at it’s best! I made friends fairly easily here, although I missed “home” very much. The reason for this move was due to my step father’s job relocation as he drove truck at the time and had switched trucking companies.

After a year, it was time to leave again. Again my step father was getting closer to his trucking work, and so I lived in my first city. We lived in an apartment, in a school that was ok but that I didn’t feel like I quite fit in. We were required to play the ukulele and I had never seen one before. The other students had been playing for years and so I was expected to pick it up right away. I struggled, but we only remained in this place for a little over a month before we left again.

My step father was again relocated. I believe this next place was called a city, but it was indeed a very small one. Again we were in an apartment building in the basement. It was small, but we had the police department outside our front door. If anything, it was a safe place to be. I quite liked my school here, and although I had missed the first month, I jumped right in (no crazy musical requirements) and made tonnes of friends. I loved being here. Sometimes between this move and the previous two, my brother also joined our family which of course made a 2-bedroom apartment a tight fit with 5 of us in it.

But of course, once again we had to move when the year was over. This time, we returned to a farm. My parents had been looking for one, and they found a beautiful, old farm that had land reaching down to a large lake. So large you would almost second guess it was the opening to the ocean. On our property we had fields, forest, a pioneer cemetery, we owned half of an open pond, and all of a pond that I considered “magical”. It was surrounded by tree and you only knew it was there if you walked into that circle of mini-forest. The pond was spring-fed and little streams of trickling water would run through the forest from it. When you were inside the circle by the pond, the rest of the world would fade away and you were left in this magical place. This place will forever hold my heart. We stayed on the farm for 2 years. We had everything from cows, horses, pony, chickens (both meat and egg-laying), turkeys, quail, rabbits, dogs, cats, goats, etc. We had never been farmers in our lives and we jumped right in! It was fun and at the same time, so laborious! Here, I made one of my best friends. We spent so much time together that we became like sisters. We were the 3rd and 4th stops on the bus which meant it usually took us an hour on the bus to get to school in the mornings and an hour to get home. But we loved every minute. However, as work would have it, this is the time when my step-father no longer had a job and had to go west, and travel back and forth. So the decision was made to go west with him when school concluded that second year.

We sadly sold all of the animals on the farm, and packed up. My mother and brother right away left to go west with my step-father, but my sister and I stayed with our grandparents so we could spend more time with our father. So for the time being, our belongings were placed back at “home” and we travelled between the two places. I had never seen my dad cry in my life until the moment he found out we were leaving not just to another town or city, but to the other side of the continent. This was one of the hardest things I’ve ever experienced.

At the conclusion of the summer, my grandparents, my sister and I packed up the van and hit the road. It was a 4-day journey to cross the continent. I was ever so glad to be off the road when we finally made it. Our new place was a townhouse, again with only 2 bedrooms. We had a very short amount of time in this house as after 2 days, we decided to travel to the big city to show my grandparents around before they made their journey “home”. We had a great time with them, but I was extremely sad to see them leave. That was my last little bit of “home” that I had with me. And these were my mom’s parents who no matter what, no matter where we went, made sure they always came and saw us and always made sure we had what we needed. We drove back to our place while they took off for their next 4-day journey. I think I had a total of 4 days in this new place before we got the phone call, and my grandfather had died in a car accident on his way “home”. My grandmother had called from the hospital. She would later need surgery to re-align her nose. The friend they had driving with them broke several bones. My grandfather had simply not made it. This was probably the hardest thing that has ever really happened to my family. This is the man I had spent most of my life with, the man I knew would do anything in the world for me. I was his first grandchild, my mom was an only child. He took care of us more than any other person, he was always there. I went into severe denial over this. I mean, the man who has chased us his whole life, no matter where we moved, is gone? That just can’t happen! Of course, we immediately went “home”.

My mother jumped on the first plane possible. I remember her falling onto the ground as I was trying to hide around the corner and hear what the conversation was about. The only words I remember was right before my mom started crying, she said “Oh… Mom… “. I knew immediately what that meant. Nobody had to tell me anything. I just went into mental shock. So she jumped on the first plane, while we stayed at my great aunt’s farm for a few days until plane tickets were cheaper to fly the 4 of us home. I started school late that year which ended up being ok because it was the school I had started my life in and I still knew everything there, including my cousins. But the manner in which I started school again that year was different. I was now back to living in my “home”, but it was just my grandmother and I. The house held an empty void, one that took forever to sink in. You see, my grandfather had an office in “town” for his used car business that also had a bedroom in it for the nights he didn’t feel like coming home. It was so easy for me to just think that Grampy was at his office, and sometime he would come home. The rest of my family had moved back to my step-dad’s place as we have never sold that either. But I knew my grandmother needed someone to be there. I wanted to be there. It was so hard to accept he was gone. Even now as I sit here and remember this, tears fall freely from my eyes. A loss that was not and still is not easy to accept. But I was “home” where I definitely needed to be for the next couple years.

At the close of the 2 years, my family met to discuss the problems. My dad had run out of work options (as an electrician) and after talking to his boss, there would be no other options for quite awhile. My mother did not work as we were joined by my second baby brother. We had to move west again. We literally had come back from a campmeeting, and had one week to each pack a garbage bag with clothes and whatever we wanted. That was it. And we made the journey west again with 6 people in a 6 person car. The arrangements were made ahead of time for us to have a place. However, when we got there, we were told that nothing was arranged for us, and so our first living space became a suite at a local hotel. As exciting as this might be for a kid, it was not for us. Try going to school and having your new friends ask you where you live, and you say a one-bedroom suite at the local hotel. Not the greatest.

Thankfully, my mom met a couple at church who had divided their 3-level house into 3 living spaces. Their parents had owned the middle floor, but were on vacation and had no problems letting us use it. We were into a 2-bedroom which was better than 1, but it was still pretty full.

The top floor was being rented by an actual tenant and we were promised her place as soon as she left. She did leave, we moved up a floor, but this is where the problems began. My dad was travelling back and forth for work, and so my mom was left to deal with the issues. The issues were things like mice, bats, bugs, etc. And the landlord would yell at my mom instead of offering to fix the problems.

Thankfully, a friend of my mom’s told her that she could get out of there right away and temporarily we could live in a spare basement bedroom she had. Although this was a good gesture for getting us out of our current problem, can you imagine the 6 of us all living in 1-bedroom with all of our belongings? I don’t have to tell you that this did not last long.

I was in high school at the time, and my mom came running into the school one day with the intention of pulling me out of class. She was so upset that we couldn’t keep living the way we were, and with my dad working away like he was, I very quickly had assumed role of second adult in the family. My vice-principal pulled her into his office before she could get to my class. He very kindly asked her why she was crying and she told him everything. Fortunately, his twin brother was head of the university that shared the same campus, and said he would call and see if we could have one of the college apartments. And this became our next living place. It was right on campus of all of our schools which was easy for us to go to school and easy for friends to come over. We made friends very quickly and I even had some that lived right on campus in the dormitories which turned out to be a great arrangement. Of course, when we first moved in, we had no furniture and so we ate, slept, and did everything on the floor. Eventually, my dad had been working enough that we were able to afford the necessary items, beds, table, etc…

Although that had been a pretty good place, it was a college apartment and we were not a college family. Plus, we had an option to move about an hour away from this place and Dad would actually be able to come home every night from his job placement. At first, we did not have a house arranged, and as crazy as it sounds, we put most of our belongings in a storage unit and bought a fifth-wheel trailer. Yes, the 6 of us lived in a fifth-wheel trailer. The front of the trailer had a master bedroom, and the back of the trailer had 2 sets of bunkbeds, so the 6 of us did indeed fit. We were kind of outside a small city, of course in a campground. And as fun as this was, this did not help us get into school. We instead started homeschool for the first time ever as we lived in this trailer for approximately 4 months before the campground closed.

We did buy a house finally! We moved to the big city, had a nice house. We lived here for just about 2 years, and after I finished homeschool for that first year (and held my first full-time job), I then went back to an amazing school for my graduation year (and of course was forced to drop back down to part-time).

By the end of the two years, my oldest younger brother had been diagnosed with epilepsy which was hard on the family. They had him on so many different medicines, some that left him so angry he’d punch holes in the walls. My father’s job ended for him being able to come home every night, and was forced to go further away so he’d travel back and forth again. My mother needed the extra help, she needed to have more family. And so the decision was made. I would have to decide what university I was going to attend because my family was going back “home”. And to get our house ready to sell, we moved back into the trailer, into a different campground, where we lived for another 2 months. Camping, to me, has developed a totally different definition.

When my parents left, I decided I wanted to go back to the campus we had lived on before. Most of my friends would be attending that university, and I knew the teachers and the dorm supervisors and everyone pretty well. Of course, since they had both university and high school dorms, they decided my sister would stay with me, which meant we had to split a room. Now, it’s ok for a university student to stay with a high school student IF they are in the high school dorm. But not for a high school student to stay with a university student int he university dorm. This is something I struggled with. This meant I had to adhere to ALL of the high school rules. I had to be in the dorm by 7:30, lights out at 10:30 (times may be slightly off, but close). Room checks once a week (maybe even once a day). It was totally restricting.

After Christmas, they said that they were expecting an influx of high school students, so they asked if I would move to the university dorm. Of course this meant I could have some more freedom, but I also had to find a person that was looking for a roommate and ask to move in. I did find a girl that wasn’t so bad, though incredibly interesting at times. It was only for a few months anyway and it ended up not being bad at all.

When university ended, I was not allowed to fly home until my sister was done school two months later. So then, I left the university dorm, moved across campus again back into the high school dorm, but luckily enough had my own room this time. It was so nice to finally have a room to myself.

She ended school, we ended up driving home with my step-dad, and only I came back out. They decided my sister wasn’t read to leave home yet. So this time, I actually spent the whole year in the university dorm with a roommate that had actually arrived after me, but was very studious and quiet. I spent most of my time with my new best friend up in her room anyways. All-in-all, it was a pretty good year.

The next year, I had made arrangements to move out of the dorm. I was tired of the bills, the extreme cost of cafeteria food, and was ready to make it on my own for the first time. I moved into a bedroom of one of the staff on campus. They inhabited the basement while they rented out 3 bedroom upstairs. My best friend also moved into one of the bedrooms. I absolutely loved living in this house for the last two years of my education. It was nice to have all that freedom, cook your own food, invite people over if you wanted to, no curfews, it was great!

When college ended, and I got my first job, I had to relocate as I was definitely unwilling to drive almost an hour each day to get to work. A girl I had graduated with got a job at the same school I had and so we were able to rent a very nice apartment and split the cost. This worked well for a year, but I had gotten engaged in that same year, as well as my sister was travelling back and forth from working for my step-dad, and you could tell my roommate didn’t like my people there as often as they were. She enjoyed having people around, just not the two I had and I ended up spending quite a bit of time either locked in my bedroom or out of the house walking around malls or wherever just to get out of the house.

And thus brings me to my present-day apartment. My job at the previous place was only a maternity leave, and had ended. My next permanent placement was here, in the big city I live in. I wanted to move out of my other place fairly quickly, so I looked for a place that was fairly cheap based on the size. We have had a few problems in this place, but overall, I don’t regret coming here first. This was my husband and my first home together. We have come to outgrow this place is the problem. It is a small apartment.

The next place we’re moving, next week, is a townhouse. A 2-bedroom with a large basement. It’s not the newest, but it’s pretty nice. It doesn’t have the large yard I’d like to have for the dogs, but it’s better than nothing. Right now it takes me about 1/2 hour to get to work, and it should take less than 5 minutes at the new place. When you consider big city stop-and-go traffic, it will save us so much money on gas. There will finally be enough room for our stuff. There will be a place I can have an office for my home businesses. I am so looking forward to this new place, as much as I hate moving. It’s so much work, but I think in the end, it will be worth it.

Now, the sad part is, I know this won’t be my last move. I don’t know where I want to be, but I know it’s not in this city. My husband has not yet received his papers and so I’m the only one who is able to work which means I have to maintain my job. And I do love my job, but I don’t love this city. I will always be a small town girl at heart. And someday, I’ll figure out where that place for me to be is.