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So let me tell you a little bit about the big move.

A month ago or so, I was applying for jobs in Denver because it was one of the locations we had chose for our potential future. Denver had been my number one pick because I’d always wanted to live there.

It started when I was 18 or so, I fell in love with the city… via a travel guide. I can’t explain it. No, I’ve never been there, to this day I’ve never set foot in the city I’m about to reside. I wanted to go to college there but couldn’t afford the out-of-state tuition. I didn’t go. Obviously.

Summer of 2008, between sophomore and junior years of college: I decided it was time. I found an apartment in Aurora and applied to University of Colorado’s downtown Denver campus. I got it. I was excited and ready to go. Literally days before moving out, after my notice had been signed that I was planning on moving out at the end of my lease, my dad asked me not to go. He had his reasons and they were acceptable and I decided to stay. I knew he wouldn’t have asked unless he really needed me to stay.

I promised myself I’d go after I graduated from college.

I graduated and was living in East Lansing with Kyle. Happy and committed in our relationship and that was more important to me than my desire to leave the state. So I let it go. I’d bring it up in conversation here and there but for the most part my dream was put on a shelf.

When Kyle and I got to talking about where we’d move for his career, I took my dream back down from that shelf and dusted it off. It was bright and shiny just like it had always been. It was full of promise and excitement and adventure.

I applied for a few jobs, but knew realistically I couldn’t jump into the first opportunity that was offered to me. I have student loans and a car loan to worry about it, not to mention the shockingly high cost of rent compared to Michigan rent prices.

After Kyle and I broke up and I was in that period of wandering lost in my own mind, confused and full of questions, I decided it was still time to go. Or at least that fate would decide for me. If any of those applications came through and called me for an interview, then I’d do my best and see what I get. If not, then I’m meant to be in Lansing for a little while longer.

Almost immediately I had interviews lining up.  I  had more than I could keep track of, sometimes two a day. Out of all of them, there was only one I really wanted.

I knew how much salary I had to be offered in order to afford the move, the cost of living difference in the new city, especially with a single income, and the extra money to stop living paycheck to paycheck like I had been. I had a number that I couldn’t take any less than. I kept my fingers crossed.

I received multiple offers to multiple jobs that I turned down. They weren’t perfect. The company wasn’t highly reviewed or the salary wasn’t there or the actual position wasn’t something I was entirely interested in. I keep thinking that if it was meant to be, then it would be. I wouldn’t go without it being a ‘dream come true’ scenario…

And then there it was. Fate came knocking. That one job, the one I wanted more than anything offered me a job. I countered their first offer and they accepted. I had exactly what I wanted, a great company, a great position and enough money to seal the deal. Everything fell into place. The job, the perfect apartment, the moving expenses and the timeline.

It was fate and I knew what I wanted to do. It was time. I made my decision and it was time to go.

This blog will now become the story of my brand new adventure.

24 days until this is my new back yard, literally:

Cheesman Park, Denver

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