A Love/Wait Relationship

New template (not that the change will be at all noticeable or memorable to anyone but me...but it's a personal mile marker), new times. I'm just finishing out my first week in Fort Worth, Texas. I'd like to say I moved here, bought a new house, started a great job and am accruing a ton of friends. But I'd be lying. In fact, I live with my parents, telecommute from a coffee shop and am utterly thrilled to have conversation with people outside my bloodline.

What is most curious to me thus far is that people here have a recurring tire issue: nails and screws. My mom has recently had two screws in her tires, my dad has had one, and I just overheard a mother of two at this coffee shop talking about how last week, she got two nails in her tires. In a time and place where the most involved interaction involves ordering tea, I just think, what, with all I've been hearing about this issue, it must be widespread. And I want to get to the bottom of it. That's all.

My overall impression here is that people are extremely nice and eager to help. I met a chiropractor, for example, who put me in touch with the owner of an advertising agency, who gave me all sorts of helpful information. Doris the coffee shop owner even sat down at my table with me to chat. It's kind of amazing.

But in true form, the most truly tiresome part of being here is my family. Yesterday, my plan was:

Wake up.
Mow.
Work out.
Go swimming at my aunt's.

What really happened was:

Wake up.
Wait for my mother to wake up at 10:30.
Mow.
Wait for my mother to get ready to work out (which consists of an hour's preparation: One must mold the hair and apply the makeup to gauge the intensity of the workout, which, if certain intensity is reached, is marked by sweaty, matted hair and melted face paint).
Wait for my sister to wake up her husband.
Wait for said husband to get out of the bathroom.
Run to order business cards in the meantime.
Drive half a mile and turn around because there's - yes - a screw in the tire.
Drive myself to the gym.
Mostly socialize with sister and husband.
Drive an hour to aunt's and swim. Finally.
Go home (well, you know). Feed the monkey on my back called: Scrabulous.

And yes, waiting does bother me a GREAT deal, but like I told my mom yesterday, I like being bothered by my family, because it means I have a family. And if nothing else, I'm loving that.

Now, to get that job.