Well, I’ve officially got my own place. Not a college dorm. Not my parent’s house. My own half of a duplex. Two bedrooms, one bath, and the smallest fully functional kitchen in existence. I think I have four total square feet of counter space. But it’s a nice place in a safe neighborhood, only a few minutes away from my new job (that starts next Thursday), and with a great price!

It’s taking me a while to adjust to living alone. Noises tend to freak me out. I babysat my sister’s hamster while she was on vacation with my parents, and he makes a slight metallic clanging noise whenever he drinks from his little water dispenser. It took three days for me to adjust. Also, I’m not the best at keeping myself on an eating schedule. (My Italian mother reads my blog, so I probably shouldn’t mention the fact that I forgot to eat dinner last night.) Also, I’m in the process of saving money for a washer and dryer. In the meantime, I’m washing my clothes in my bathtub. It’s actually not bad, although I’m not sure I did a very good job of rinsing the detergent out. Such is life, I suppose.

But there have been some good moments, too. Like Monday. I made meatloaf–the first real meal I’ve cooked (besides some eggs, which I burnt because I’m not used to my new stove yet). If you’ve been following me for any amount of time, you’ll know that I’m a very old-fashioned person. I have the values and temperament of a 65-year-old pioneer grandmother. So when I sat down to eat, when I placed my homemade meatloaf on my homemade hot pads and set my cup of filtered water on a homemade coaster, I felt something.

When I was a kid, I always knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wanted to be an archaeologist for a while, then a spy, then a writer. I’ve always wanted to be a wife and a mother. But when I was about ten, I had an epiphany about what kind of person I wanted to be. I wanted to be a laid-back person with a simple life. I wanted to work hard and make my own stuff. I wanted a backyard with chickens and a vegetable garden, and hands that were always busy with a yarn project.

When I set my meatloaf on my homemade hot pads, I knew that I was doing it. I’m becoming the sort of person I’ve always wanted to be.

Now, obviously, my life isn’t nearly what I want it to be like someday–I never thought I’d be a teacher. A homeschool mom at some point, yes, but not a teacher for someone else’s kids. But I can still be the sort of person I want to be. I can still serve home-cooked meals on homemade hot pads. Just a couple hours ago, I was curled up on my couch watching Criminal Minds, a mug of echinacea tea in both hands, a crochet project at my side, essential oils diffusing a few feet away from me. I’m one step closer to living my dream life.

Speaking of meatloaf and my messed up eating schedule, I should probably go eat some leftovers. It’s 7:00.

Like I said, the students show up next week. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get a blog out next week, but you can still follow me on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook! I did a livestream on Facebook recently where I gave a tour of my house, so you can visit my page and watch it if you’re interested. God bless, dear readers, and thank you for your prayers!