Better Than This

CHAPTER EIGHT The introduction of Miss Puerto Rico IT'S THE NEXT DAY. I wake up on the floor in Eric’s old office. The only difference from this day and any other day prior to last night will be the last time I sleep in this office ever again. Last night was the last time I will ever be homeless again. Speaking of which, I also signed a month-to-month agreement with my new roommate last night with the contingency that I cannot move any furniture in until I pay him my first two weeks of pay. I’m able to move in but I’m not able to move any furniture in. The jokes on him, because homeless people don’t have furniture. I can’t tell you how amazing this feels. I have a home, guys, I have a home! Let’s backtrack for a moment. I was evicted out of my condo, evicted out of this office for smelling foul, I had lost my girlfriend, my family, my son, my ride, my job and my income. I had been living on nickels and dimes that I found in the cracks of sidewalks to eat food that I didn’t have to fish out of a dumpster. I have one duffel bag of clothing and one friend, Eric. I have finally found a job and because of that job, found a new room for rent. Officially taking me out of homelessness and hopelessness and I have done what most would call the impossible. I’m not out of the woods yet by any means but I have possibility. I have hope. My newfound income doesn’t hurt either. Now, I know that I have found a job, even though I haven’t started yet, I’m still going to look for work that pays better than $8.75 an hour. Yes, I just landed a new job, yes, I just landed a new place and yes, technically I'm no longer homeless and I should be grateful. I should be satisfied, but I'm not. I want more. I want better. I need better. Not just for myself but for the sake of my son. I need to be that shining example of falling hard on your face and not only getting back up, but surpassing everything I had been to become everything, I ever wanted to be. This starts with demanding better. Not asking, but demanding better. So, it's back to Craigslist I go, to continue to look for a better job. Crazy I know, but this new me is revitalized, refreshed, and determined. I send out my resume to what seems like a thousand companies with new job openings on Craigslist. Nothing has come back yet and after an hour my attention drifts off. How am I going to get to and from work next week? Well, time to start planning my route! My new job starts Tuesday and I don’t have any time to waste. I search the address to my new condo (yay!) and then map it to my new work address. By car it's twenty-eight minutes and sixteen miles all together. Next, I check the bus routes and of course, there aren't any buses that travel to that part of Summerlin at all. Great. I'm assuming that my new potential neighbors would never have a city bus driving through their communities, smogging (if that is even a word) up the place, ruining where they rest at. The surrounding communities in that part of town are gated two-million-dollar homes. These homes are quite large, and how does a man going from homeless to living next to millionaires get here anyway? As it is, there aren’t any bus routes near where I'm going to be living and I know this is nowhere near as big a problem as being out on the streets, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that this is still going to be tough. This trying to get back and forth without a dime for transportation is going to be a hell of a challenge. Without money for a ride, that would mean that I will be potentially walking sixteen miles a day, or thirty-two miles round trip, to work and even if I left today, I still wouldn’t be able to make it there on time on Tuesday…or will I? Then it hits me. How long does it take to walk a mile? I honestly don't know. I know I've walked a lot since losing my truck, but I've never timed myself. Then I get an idea. I look down at my remaining five dollars in rolled up nickels. I look at my duffel bag in the corner, then back to my nickels. I got it! Dollar Store, baby! I'll walk to the Dollar Store. Here's why this is genius. I'll walk to the Dollar Store which is just over 1 mile, I think, from Eric's old office suite and time myself. Not only that, but with five dollars in rolled up nickels, (which I know they will accept, I can get 5 boxes of Cheese crackers or some type of snacks or food for the next five days or so. This is perfect. I know what you're thinking. “Why didn't you just walk to the Dollar Store for food instead of spending it at Subway in the first place?” You can't live off snack food, even though I'm forced to right now, plus I need the nutrients that you can find in a Subway sandwich to live off. Also, Subway is just fifteen feet away versus over a mile one way for the Dollar Store. Convenience wins. Anyhow, I search the address to the Dollar Store from Eric's old office. Just over 1 mile, yes! Perfect. I empty out my duffel bag of all my old, smelly clothing. I grab my saved-up nickels and take the first step out of the office to embark on my one-mile journey, with timing myself as a major priority.