If any of you are on Instagram, I'm Leightonic. I don't really do FaceBook anymore. Maybe later, when I'm 25 again.
So, it's been a year since a "freakout" (as not seen on TV or the Interwebs), which I mark with the purchase of my Fiat 500.
Personality crisis: not biblical so I won't complain. Others may. Have fun. I know I did.
I'm happily moved into Chicago. Though I still technically have a house and an apartment in Ypsilanti, MI.
I was engaged and still am. We just have to set another date, on a non-crazy schedule this time. Don't say anything is easy.
The Fiat, oddly, has been a stable goto symbol. I probably shouldn't have bought a new car. But not having a marriage, consistent place to live, bands, and local friends makes having a reliable thing to get you around a comfort in a blender. And it's taken me everywhere nicely: New Orleans, Memphis, Chicago (40x).
I'm still a reluctant trucker, despite my trying for six months to find suitable otherwork with benefits and using my architectural degree. After applying to over 100 places, I'm now starting to get interviews.
Tragic: Yesterday, two jobs fell through and my bike got stolen (my trashed Schwinn, but it was MY trashed Schwinn). Today: my medical benefits got cut off at my current job. I've been more healthy than ever (yoga, biking, eating not Burger King), but this is not good.
Spent way too much money on travel all over the US and moving to Chicago, so I'm in debt, but I'm also in love. These are worth the expense and time to please another.
I'm not in any bands now for the first time in over 20 years, which is odd in that it isn't odd. Bands were recently a source of stress that I had to slough off or die. Trucking has become the last stress. When I get a new job, I will get a new band... maybe.
I'm thinking Pissed Jeans meets The Haunted.