Today I found my home. One of my best friends from Scotland put me in touch with one of her co-workers who owns a one bedroom flat in an old bonded warehouse in Leith. While Leith is not near the campus where I will be working and going to school, it is near the water, it is safe and affordable, and it does not have to be a forever place. So far I have only traded emails with the owner, but she seems very nice, answered all of my questions, and seems to have a good sense of humor about the whole process. She tells me that she has had horrible renters in past, people that skipped out on two months worth of rent, people that have sold off all of the furniture that comes with the flat, and I guess the person living there is not really the best character.

I think the universe is rewarding me for all of the stress that I have been under lately. I still do not have my student number to apply for my visa, and I am still trying to figure out what to pack and how to get all of the things I need (and not necessarily all the things that I want) to my new home in time for me to get them.

I am very excited about my new home. I really haven’t seen it yet, but it already feels like it is my place. It already feels like this time I am going home after an extended leave. It will be the first time in two years that I live on my own, and while I am leaving behind my furniture, I am going to take some of my artwork and some pictures from my life here. I am excited to add my own personal touches, explore the area around the building, and find a library, a grocery store, and a good spot on the shore to sit and read books. This is the first time in a long time that I am excited to move, and I am not really worried about the packing, the shipping, and how to get the boxes once I send them to my new place. Knowing me, I will stress out about that as they come, but for right now, I am so excited that I can cross that off the list and that I will not be homeless on the 21st of June. Last time I did this I signed on to live in the dorms. At the time, I made the best choice I could, but this time I am 3 years older, and a whole lot wiser. No more dorms, no more snotty freshers, and no more awful food. The only awful food that will make it to my belly is the food that I cook.  I’m sure that my cooking will improve greatly when I get there because I will want to show off for my friends by cooking fancy, authentic Mexican food with kosher tortillas that I plan to smuggle in.

After two very long years, I am finally headed back to my home. Maybe this time there will be a puppy waiting for me when I get there.