No Vacancy

You know that moment in the old Roadrunner cartoons when Wylie Coyote had just ran off the cliff, but had yet to look down to realize his impending fate? That could have very well been me upon making the decision to move to San Francisco. The weeks that followed that decision were one constant blur of chaos, panic, and drama that no doubt took a few years off of my life.

I submitted my resignation to HHSC the morning of my decision to move, and that started a solid week and a half of going away parties from friends, family, and coworkers that nearly did me in. It was a great feeling to know that I’d be missed by so many people, but after about the 5^th night of drinking at Casino el Camino, The Draught House, Billy’s or one of a dozen other hangouts of mine, I was ready to be done with it all. Sadly that was just the beginning of the long and arduous journey ahead of me. There was to be no downtime, as the day after my last day of state employment I was on a plane to San Francisco to find a new place to live.

I had given myself four days to find a new abode, and having lined up several places to look at from Craigslist, I wasn’t concerned at all. Over the course of those 4 days I looked at tons of places around town, from a shoebox in the marina district that they wanted $2,100 a month for, to the nice place in Hayes Valley that would have been great had half of San Francisco not put in their application as well. Finally, on my last night in town, I looked at one place in NOPA and knew it was the place for me. It fit all of my needs, and just felt like a great place to live. I explained to the gentleman that was showing the place that I was on an extremely short timetable, and was told that he’d take my application, as well as the ones from the ton of other people that wanted the place as well, and have an answer for me by 10:00 the next morning. So there I was, my last morning in San Francisco, still without a place to live, and I had to be at the airport by 1:00 to catch my flight. Well 10:00 came and went, and there was no call from the landlord. Finally at 10:15 I called him only to find out that he was stuck in a meeting until 11:00. After not hearing from him by 11:30, I was starting to panic. I called him one last time to find out the problem was now that my old apartment complex staff were dragging their feet in faxing him my rental verification. I informed him that I was about to have to check out of my hotel, and finally he said to just go ahead and head to his office, and he may have an answer for me when I get there. So I checked out and drove like a madman across the city, with an hour to go before I had to be at the airport. When I got there he finally let me know that the place was mine, I signed the lease, cut him a check, and made a mad dash for the airport, thinking that the worst was now behind me. Of course I was sadly mistaken, as this adventure was about to take a turn for the worst…

New Beginnings

Charles Dickens once said "Minds, like bodies, will often fall into a pimpled, ill-conditioned state from mere excess of comfort." To me, it's a warning to those that are tempted to fall under the seduction of the easy way out in life. Recently I realized I had done just that. Having been employed with the Texas Health and Human Services Commission for nearly 7 years, I had become completely comfortable in my job. I was great at what I did and I enjoyed it, but I was no longer challenged. Friends would constantly inquire why I remained in my lowly state position and I would always brush them off, telling myself clichéd phrases like "there's more to life than money". This went on for years until finally last month a good friend of mine in San Francisco let me know that his coworker was leaving the company and that I would make a good replacement candidate. I of course laughed at the idea, drunk off of the level of comfort I had achieved in my life, but finally he convinced me to at least come out and spend a couple of days at the office on the company's dime. Figuring I'd get a free vacation out of the deal, I took him up on this offer and the next thing I knew I was in San Francisco.

While in the city by the bay, I remember talking to a friend of mine and telling her that San Francisco just wasn't for me. For a native Texan, things just didn't feel right. No one seemed to have a clue what queso, migas, or good BBQ were. Things were overly congested, and the concept of having to wear a jacket in late may was enough to send a Texan running home. But still, I went to the office to spend my two days as I had promised Patrick. While there, on my 25th birthday no less, I realized that this was actually a pretty great place to work. The employees were all professional and easy to work with, and the perks were plentiful to say the least. Even then, when the two days were up, I was quite ready to "Boogie Back to Texas" as the Asleep at The Wheel song says. As I touched down at Austin-Bergstrom International, I was ecstatic to be back home. Sure it was great to see another part of the country, but I was back in my comfort zone and all was right in the world once again.

By this point I was ready to let Patrick know I wasn't going to take the position, but then something happened. A person on an online forum that I frequent told me this; "Which would you prefer in 20 years? Going after a golden opportunity in a new cool city and having a 'California' chapter in your life or sitting at your government job in Austin eating 'happy 25 years' cake wondering if you should have taken that golden California opportunity?" The more I thought about that question the more depressed I became. The thought of the latter happening terrified me. Did I really want to slip into such mediocrity and comfort at 25? What had happened to the Josh that aspired to be more? In that instant I knew what I had to do. Within the hour I had e-mailed Patrick as I had planned, but instead of declining the position, I instead asked when he'd like me to start. If I was worried before about becoming too comfortable, I had no such worries after that moment as Patrick let me know that I was going to be needed on July 1^st, less than a month away. It was then that the fun really began...