Jesus… effing Christ (Sorry… I know I am a faithful guy and shouldn’t use the Lord’s name like that… but…). How does Wayfair expect anyone to put these together?
“Lift seat and slide into arm pieces…”
With… what?? My fucking imaginary crane?
“Slide back piece in… Complete.”
Literally… the entire God Damn chair just fell apart. Are you fucking kidding me?
One of my best friends in the universe was waiting for me to pick him up from McCarran Airport. I was between job interviews, filling out paperwork for a job, moving in boxes, writing, working on Bold and I had nowhere to sit! I had three goddamn pieces to put together: the chair, the love seat and the couch. They were sitting in my garage. I assumed they would come assembled from delivery people. But, I just checked my driveway in between letting Joker out and cleaning and there they were in boxes! I had also just spent over $2000 in furniture that weekend and I had no job. I didn’t know that Wayfair furniture comes unassembled. I sold all of my tools before I moved. What was I thinking? But, “thankfully” this couch and chair set for my living room is supposed to just slide in. Just slide right in…. look at the directions:
“Place pieces next to each other… slide them in together… have chair to sit on.”
Those are the directions!
I had to have somewhere to sit. I hadn’t sat in a good chair since I moved in.
Let’s backtrack.
What just happened?
Well, I moved. I made the decision in July of this year to move to Sin City, resigned from my role at my University, and started selling everything I owned. Then, I started packing. It’s something I’d wanted for years and never had the guts to pull the trigger on. The circumstances were right to do the thing. I did the thing and started.
Then I stopped packing… I was so completely paralyzed because I had just done that and I sunk into a deep depression. I started sleeping in more, isolating myself from others, and watching a lot of television. I couldn’t find a job in Las Vegas, the place that I wanted to move to. What gives? I had like a billion degrees and so much experience. Just luck of the draw? Who knows? Las Vegas is a transient town. Maybe people were hesitant to hire someone who wasn’t there yet. I even went and visited with my then girlfriend to look at houses and jobs and came up very short.
Then, there was the unsettling feeling of my business. It had been brutally attacked pretty consistently over the past 120 days due to some transgressions I made (yes, I was an asshole and I probably still am, but I’m very much working on it). Would it survive if I spent more time on it? Pivoted? Could I do something else? I am so much an entrepreneur and educator. That’s what I wanted to do. That was the goal of me moving, originally, anyway.
Finally, after realizing paralysis helps no one, I decided to make the move. I set a date, started renting U-Hauls, looking at places to live, etc. If I wasn’t going to find a job from NY, I’d do it in Las Vegas.
There are plenty of reasons I decided on Las Vegas. The major reason is that I just got a good vibe there. I also have some friends there. But, here is a bulleted list:
- It’s inexpensive to live.
- There’s a budding startup culture there.
- It’s very different from New York and I wanted to try something new.
- I’ve never moved out of the state of New York or very far from New York City.
- I’m not a huge fan of the winters in the Northeast.
- Many etc.
It was about Mid to late August when I decided to just take the leap: starting making plans to go and set a date. I began to sell everything I could list. Had a few moving sales. Got some boxes and started packing. Things were moving along. By September (Labor Day), it was really starting to happen. I was moving.
Until about 3 weeks before the move. I had planned to leave on October 14th and get in on October 20th. Things were starting to get real. I had asked a friend of mine (another Christopher) to take the ride with me. It was actually happening. But, things were starting to fall apart:
- I was applying to houses and apartments that just weren’t responding (even with the help of a realtor).
- Apparently my truck wasn’t equipped to pull a U-Haul trailer without some serious work on it.
- Certain items weren’t selling out of my home (lots of the big stuff).
- I realized that I know nothing about cleaning and painting an apartment you’re moving out of.
- The U-Haul trailer I rented was way too small. Added costs started accumulating and now I had a freaking garage on wheels to tow.
- I still didn’t have a job.
- I had sold my house 2 months prior and was still owed a ton of money due to a technicality.
And, then there were all of these signs telling me to stay home. People near me were telling me about opportunities in New York I’d be a great fit for. I started to already miss my friends and family. Maybe I should just quit and get a job in New York again?
I read a quote recently that said “I didn’t regret the things I’ve done. I regretted those I did not do.” I decided to do the thing I wanted to do for so long. It involved plenty of nights of crying alone, and then finally asking for help. My family and friends helped me prepare my truck, pack, clean, and even bought some of my stuff. Nobody helped me spackle or paint, though. I’ll be honest, I suck at that game.
The final weekend of my stay in New York was emotional as hell. It was also my 35th birthday. I spent as much time as I could with friends and my family. I asked everyone to meet me at Churchill’s, a local bar we all loved when we turned 21 in Oceanside. It was an “adult” bar and you can’t get in without a real ID. So, when we were young professionals living at home, we all went there for drinks. I felt this would be the perfect spot to reminisce and spend time with new and old friends.
And, it was. The scene was set like the end of Phenomenon, except I, the John Travolta in the story, didn’t die. I was right there seeing everyone and talking, laughing, having a great time. Family members met new friends. Old friends from High School were making some fun new memories.
Did I mention I’d been crying a little bit. Well, I wasn’t crying, yet. Not nearly the man-cry that was about to begin. From the minute I left the bar at 2:00AM Friday into Saturday morning until the minute I left at 4:30AM on Monday morning, I sobbed. I called my best friend and cried. I cried to my mom, my dad, my good friend who was helping me pack. I called my ex girlfriend whom I loved, who understood me… and cried. It hurt. The whole thing hurt. And, I didn’t want it to hurt anymore. Maybe I shouldn’t go. Stop the hurt. Stop the crying.
But, I went. After I stopped crying, I went. I woke up at 3:30AM on a Monday morning, attached that god-forsaken trailer on the back of my truck, and I went. My dear friend Nicole saw me off and Joker was smiling. It really kind of still sucked for a little bit. Here are some examples of why:
- Have you ever towed a trailer through a road trip? Only certain roads can be driven.
- Joker (dog) needed to pee a lot and can’t eat at most restaurants.
- I was still crying.
- The trailer rattled and shook as I pulled it. I was nervous about how well I attached my trailer hitch (yes I did it with my cousin who is a damn good auto-guy, but anything can happen!).
- You can’t really park the trailer in too many places.
- I was exhausted.
But, something happened about halfway into the 5 day journey from New York to Las Vegas as I was re-routing us and planning it. I started learning. I learned how to maneuver the trailer. I learned to breathe. I learned to communicate with friends and family without being next to them. My road trip partner (Christopher) and I were learning each other’s music tastes, arguing and debating, giving each other space to call our partners or family members. Learning was fun. After all, I am a professor, aren’t I?
And the sunsets… God the sunsets were incredible. Have you seen the sun rise over the wheat farms of Kansas or set over the plateaus of Utah? Smelled the air of the middle of Colorado? I hadn’t. And, it was all wonderful.
Honestly, the last two days of the road trip were treacherous, I mean truly dangerous. You can’t just tow a small garage on the back of your truck through the high inclines of Colorado, Utah, and Arizona, curving your way down to Las Vegas, without intense focus. And, intense focus is something I was lacking lately. Could I do it? My anxiety fed into my intelligence and reason and I freaked out.
But, on Friday October 20th, I made it safely to Las Vegas. I pulled into my driveway, got my keys, and opened up my house.
I am downplaying a lot of what happened to get me here. My friends and family fucking rocked the shit out of getting me here. And some even welcomed me into Las Vegas with parties and drinks. I am forever grateful to them. But, I did have to press the gas pedal myself. And, the minute I got here, I felt a sense of relief. Jobless with a huge house to fill of furniture and roommates, I was here. And, that made me so immensely happy. Even if I turned around in two weeks and left. I still made it.
Now, to these chairs and couches. It was Tuesday (the weekend flew by), I dropped off Chris already to the airport, and my buddy Kevin needed me to pick him up. I had been offered a part time job (big whoop) and needed to fill out some paperwork. But, I wanted a chair to sit on!
“Okay… this isn’t working… how do I slide this in while keeping it together? Joker, I love you. Out of the way.”
Click. It worked! I had a chair. It took me 45 minutes but I had one. I had about 2 hours before I had to pick up Kevin at the airport. Shoot, I had other things to do. I guess I can build the rest of the couches tomorrow? But, I have interviews. And, I really wanted something to actually go right since my move. I could put together some damn furniture. I had to. Because there was nobody else to do it. Nobody else to hit the gas pedal for me. Nobody else to make the move but me.
“Let’s see if I can just do the love seat, it’s only a little bigger.”
Slide in. Fail.
Slide in. Fail.
Slide in. Fail.
Let’s slow down.
Slide in. Click!
Click. Click.
Click! Done!
20 minutes? Okay… but, this couch, this thing is huge…It’s going to take me over an hour. How do I even get it into the living room? I took a break. Sat down for a second, petted Joker, had some water and went into the garage to retrieve the couch in its box.
Pushhhhhhhh. Dragggggggg…. lift. Pushhhhhhhhhhhh. Okay we’re in. Cut the box opened.
“Damn, this thing is huge.”
Okay… just slide….. and.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Done? 10 minutes later I had a couch. 10 damn minutes! I had a couch.
I had learned. I had grown. I had accomplished something. I showered and filled out my paperwork. Kevin called me 30 minutes earlier than he said he would and I hopped in the car and grabbed him. We got drinks and laughs. We walked around the Las Vegas strip (actually I got us lost). I woke up the next day, interviewed, and got one of four job offers that week. Nothing that was too groundbreaking, but I was on the right track.
I had learned.
I had grown.
I did it.
And, now it’s time to put my roulette chips where they matter: On me. I am Bold and Bold is me. And, it doesn’t always have to center around the world of plus size women (because it can’t). I bleed purple. My personality is part of the business I want to grow. And, I want to be here, with a new job, and a new life, and a new breath of fresh air.
I am learning.
I am growing.
I am putting my chips on purple and watching the roulette wheel spin. I am putting my chips on me.
Thank you to Nicole, Christopher, Mom, Dad, Joanne, Carmine, Jason, David, Kristen, Trish, Eric, Matt, Justin, Aunt Louise and Tom, Anthony, Uncle George, Michael, Anthony, Dean, Kevin, Julie, and Jessica. If I have forgotten to write your name, it wasn’t intentional. I promise. Be you… Be bold. And, when you sit down at the roulette table, trust your choice and watch it spin.
