In God’s Hand

I’ve been having nightmares.

Tonight’s nightmares were weird. I dreamt that I walked into a house and everyone was so sad. As I followed the trail of sad faces to a bedroom my Mama was sitting there and a TV camera crew was filming her. When she saw me she looked up and said, “Did you tell Donna to call her Mom? What did you write?”

I knew then that whatever drama everyone was experiencing was caused by my relaying the truth from my heart on my blog.

“Mama…I was just trying to heal myself,” I tried to explain. She shook her head and continued listening to the TV crew.

I’m tired.

I’ve been working all week at the Restaurant.

Early Monday morning I got a call from them saying, “Congralulations and Welcome to The Restaurant family! Please report to work tomorrow morning at 7am, where black pants or capris and bring a copy of your drivers license and social security card. Once again, Congralulations! We look forward to working with you.”

I was like, “Oh yeah..Bout time.”

And then I realized- I’m about to be working again. Oh my gosh….

I sat up in bed and looked around at the oranges, reds and browns that decorate the room that Kia calls Kilamajaro or something like that. All of the bedrooms in her home have themes. She’s into African Art. She’s into African American literature. Her bookshelves made me salivate. Her magazine collection made me moist. Her taste in music is delightful and we actually get along very well.

How did we meet?

Through the internet.

When I was staying with Nancy and her family and I didn’t know where I was going to end up next. I got this bright idea to post an ad in the housing wanted section of the internet.

Hard Times In Houston

Hi. I’m a 27 year old Black female who recently relocated to the area. After I got here every plan that I had fell through. Now I don’t have a job or a place to stay but I won’t allow that to defeat me. I’m hoping that someone could allow me to barter cleaning services for a month in exchange for a place to sleep. I can also do writing or marketing work if that is of any value to you.

If you can’t offer housing, please send me tips on how to sustain myself in Houston without compromising my principles. Pray about it.

I received so many responses from this ad that I had to remove it. The Professor was one of the first to respond offering me a room in his townhome until the student got there. Kia replied too, saying she was looking for a roommate and could help out because her mother taught her to give. I met a woman named Patty who I email consistently but we haven’t met yet. I received all types of links to local job websites. People even gave me tips on foodstamps, phone numbers to people who had helped them in their time of need and advice about where to live and where not to live. One man even offered me access to his home if I would consider a long term relationship with him. I refused politely but we still keep in touch.

I chose to go to the Professor’s house because he lives in the Museum District versus Kia, who lives about 40 minutes away from the area I wanted to work in and live. I should have trusted my gut instinct. After just one night with the Professor I called Tamara and said, “I feel like I’m in prison.”

I will learn not to talk myself out of believing in my gut feeling.

And my gut feeling is telling me that Kia and I will become good friends.

And my gut feeling is telling me that great things are in store for me in Houston.

My gut feeling is telling me that working at The Restaurant will be a good beginning for me.

Since I’ve been working there I’ve also landed a freelance writing gig at one of the Black newspapers. Well…I think she’s trying to offer me a full time position and I COULD do it…but…I’m not a news writer. I CAN write news. I can write ANYTHING- well- except press releases but…I won’t be passionate about it and I know my disinterest will ultimately lead to me being fired or quitting or being stuck in a situation where I have created all of these bills for myself and I have to maintain them by sitting in some job I hate.

If I’m living out of my car right now, I will just maintain that until I find a balance of work and passion to sustain myself.

But..I’m actually NOT living out of my car anymore. Today I finally unpacked the things from my car and brought them inside to my room.

It was a momentous occasion because I hadn’t even realized that I was scarred by my interaction with the Professor. Kia called me one day after work and asked, “Are you scared?”

“Huh?”

“Are you scared? Do you think I’m going to psychologically scar you? I won’t. I want you to live with me. You can bring your things out of the car. I’ll help you. I’ll get Dave to help you. You don’t have to keep living out of your car Tee.”

I was silent.

“I just don’t want to impose.”

“But I invited you to stay with me. I want you to make yourself at home.”

I refused to do it. She understood. She remained patient, treating me like a wounded kitten. Allowing me to take baby steps becoming comfortable in her home.

I guess I didn’t conciously realize it but I was holding back tremendously. I was apologizing and explaining every little thing. “I couldn’t find the trash bags so I left the trash in a grocery bag, I hope you won’t be mad, Kia.”

“Tee, why would I trip over that? It’s okay. You can relax here. I promise I won’t throw you out of my house without at least 24 hour notice unless you kill my dog or something. I’m not gonna flip out on you,” she assured me.

I just know that I am a very considerate person. Sometimes I even compromise what I want for the happiness of others. I’ll consider their satisfaction over my own and take the little piece of chicken, the next best purse, the room without the view- just so someone will have a good experience. But all of that consideration meant nothing to the Nutty Professor, who got all jiggy with me. There’s one thing I can not stand, it’s being somewhere that I am not wanted.

What’s cool is that Kia and are so similar in so many ways. We are both antisocial, preferring the quiet comfort of home to life in the streets and the clubs. We both love to read and chill with our friends. We both LOVE the internet and can spend hours together sitting on the couch with our laptops, trading links through IM and watching youtube videos.

The one thing I realize is that our movie watching methods differ. She likes to watch with the subtitles on and if the subtitles are on when I’m watching a movie, I get distracted and can’t actually WATCH the movie because I’m so busy reading the screen and analyzing their choice of words. He could have said that much better…Why did the writer choose that tone?

I’ll never forget my first morning at Kia’s when I woke up and I got the call from the Restaurant. Kia left for work and called me on her way to check up on me. I told her the good news and she was happy for me. Her friend Dave was riding in the car with her and he asked for the phone.

“What are you doing on Tuesday night?” he asked me. I could almost picture this white man rubbing his scraggly beard mischievously.

“Um…I don’t have any plans.” I never have plans. Duh. I don’t have any friends.

“Would you like to um….watch TV on Kia’s couch? It’s a nice comfy couch. We can all hang out.”

I smiled a bright sunshiny smile. Wow. Someone was actually inviting me to just..hang out. That meant so much to me.

“Thanks Dave!”I squealed. “I’d love to.”

When We hung up I did a happy dance. “I’m gonna hang out and laugh!” Wow. I really need that. I’m so damn tense all the time. I need to just…have fun.

I opened the door to my room to go to the restroom and when I returned I saw a note on the door with a set of keys hanging on a tack.

Goodmorning Tee! Please make yourself at home. There’s food in the pantry. Take a shower. Use the phone. Relax. The major highways are in opposite directions. Call me if you need help figuring out where you want to go. Please don’t be scared to be here. — Kia

I’m still kind of tip toeing around her home but…at least I’m not living out of my car anymore.

Man… I can’t wait to have my own space with no house rules and no one to just barge in on me. I can’t wait to be free to be naked again!

I am grateful to God everyday for all of the love I’ve been receiving from strangers. I guess they’re not strangers, I should call them angels because each one of them shows up right on time with an offering to meet my needs.

It’s a beautiful thing to be covered by the blood. I feel like I’m right in the palm of God’s hand.

Even though my life seems crazy, this is exactly where I am supposed to be.