Butterflies and Lightning Bolts

According to Google, the fluttery feeling that we humans get when we are nervous is nothing more than our brains communicating their hopes and fears to our organs. Google says it’s some sort of brain-gut connection via the vagus nerve and something to do with neurons along the brain-gut axis. Google also seems to think that butterflies in our stomachs are the most common when we are sexually attracted to someone. Hm.

I don’t know about you humans over there, but this human most definitely has two different gut feelings. The first is the tummy tingling feeling of excitement over something wonderful happening or because of a positive memory. The second is a lighting bolt of a jolt in my gut whenever I think about a stressful situation or am preparing for a tough encounter. The former does little more than make me feel a happy little buzz – the latter requires a deep breath and a little prayer that the most recent injection of cortisol into my bloodstream passes quickly.

Six. That lightning bolt feeling happened to me six times today. I googled it and no one seems to know what I’m talking about, but clearly the two feelings are quite different in my body.

One thing that weighs heavily on my mind right now is my housing situation. You see, I have inadvertently gotten myself into a handful of tricky situations… again. I currently live in a house provided by the owners of the company where I am currently employed. The house sits directly next door to work, which makes the commute awesome, but it also sits in a town in Amish+Mennonite country where the population is a booming 891 people.* One month ago today the owners asked me to prepare to vacate their house, which seemed like a perfectly simple problem to overcome until I sat down and really though about the bigger picture of the situation.

Although I can’t go into all the specifics of this housing debacle, I will say that renting in this part of the country is cheaaaaap. But… renting options are not prolific and they are not always safe and/or clean and/or nice in any way. In fact, you may arrive at the property to find out that you’re out in the middle of the forest by yourself in a creepy old house with holes in the floor and four-legged roommates. This town doesn’t have the option of apartments of any kind and the vivid noun “slumlord” comes to mind. Many also require a year-long lease which in case you didn’t realize means that you have to sign a binding piece of paper that ties you down to a 891 person town for a YEAR. Did I mention that the nearest grocery store is 45 minutes away? Unless of course you can find all of your grocery needs at the local Dollar General, that is. Did I also mention that you have to drive 15 minutes just to get to the interstate? Or that if you fall fatally ill or injured your only shot at survival is via helicopter because the hospital is so far away? I’m not exaggerating when I say that I had panic attacks when I first moved here because I felt like I would simply disappear into never-never-land never to be heard from again.

So why did I move here, you ask? Work experience. People, it’s hard to come by sometimes.

I’m being quite serious when I say that I absolutely cannot wait until I can secure a nice little place of my own. At the rate I’m going I may have to work three jobs to get there, but hey! I don’t care if it’s the size of a postage stamp I just want it to be mine and full of my stuff and where I won’t have to give up the house to strangers at random times or be involuntarily asked to leave. There’s something so wonderful about actually having a place where you belong where you get to purchase your own crap and have anyone you want over as guests. Oh, and pets. And plants. I want plants in my life. Is this why some girls end up marrying some rich guy with a house?

Onward and upward!





*Yes, I Googled that too.

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