Calling All Drivers

I am strangely good at finding the right size Tupperware for leftover food. My roommates will cook, and I’ll run into the kitchen and offer to put the leftovers away for them, just to get some practice in. Someone once told me to find the one you think will fit and then go a size down; the advice has proven to be flawless. This weekend I learned that I have a new skill: tiling.

“I am surprised at how good you are at laying tile,” my friend, Becky, told me. I was surprised too; it does not seem like something I would be good at. I had actually been avoiding it because I thought it would be dreadful, but we have to finish tiling our laundry room by Passover because it is becoming my bedroom.

It all started when I decided to move out this September. We convinced our friend, Heidi, to take over my lease, but it worked out for her to move in sooner rather than later.

“I could just live in the laundry room,” I said. It has always seemed a little too big to be a laundry room, but we had no use for it to be anything else. Until now.

I was face-timing my sister, Leah, the other day about it, when she brought up that it won’t be much different than when I live with her because she doesn’t even have a couch for me to sleep on.

“But how much space do you have, really?” I asked.

“Not much, it’s a one bedroom,” she said.

Normally this would not bother me at all, but unbeknownst to my sister, I have been using her apartment as a selling point to people when I try and convince them that they should be Kloe and my support-van drivers for the trip.

“And then you can be in LA and live at my sister’s place with us. It’ll be great, it’s really close to the beach and awesome,” I tell people. I have no concept how close Leah lives to the beach or how she feels about long-term guests, but at this point I’m desperate to find a driver because my packing list keeps growing.

I didn’t realize how difficult it would be to find a driver. While “come drive 90 miles a day by yourself for a month,” is appealing to me, less of my friends are willing to quit their jobs and come across the country than I anticipated. I have gotten a lot of replies along the lines of “maybe, let me see what I’m doing then,” but no solid yeses. I’m confident, though, because like I said, they can stay with my sister as long as they want after, and she lives in LA, pretty close to a beach, I think.


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