Deck Chairs in my Living Room — An Immigrant Gratitude Story
How one of my worst days turned into one I’ll never forget.
In late 2017, I moved to San Antonio, Texas, from Perth, Western Australia, on a wish and a promise, my 16-year-old kitty cat in tow.
After some frustrations trying to get an apartment rental with only a tourist visa and a bank account statement to show sufficient funds, some angels disguised as apartment managers gave me a shot. I had been living in a motel for ten days after a few weeks in Round Rock sleeping on a friend’s blow-up mattress, and was tired of being in limbo as I searched desperately for homes and jobs.
On the day we moved in, however, things didn’t go exactly as planned! In fact, they were downright disastrous.
Upon arriving at the apartment complex at the pre-arranged time of 10am, I was informed that my apartment was not yet ready. Apparently, it needed some work done after the last tenant left and the clean up was still in progress. I was assured that this would be done by 5pm and that I could return then. After the high of the drive and the anticipation of settling into a glorious space of our own — I had spent the previous three months living in other people’s homes as I packed up my life in Australia and made my way to Texas — I hit a brick wall…
