As it stands now, Mom and Dad are driving to Las Vegas on Tuesday for a job interview Dad has at a charter school in Henderson. This is it. This is what we have waited for. And it feels right. This is the time to begin living as we should, for complete happiness and satisfaction that each day has been well spent.
I've already made my one request known. When they stop at the gas station-cum-food court in Baker, the halfway point to Las Vegas, they have to pick up a copy of the weekend section of the Las Vegas Review-Journal for me. It's in the rack of free publications, at the bottom, next to the claw machine. I haven't seen it for so long, and I'd like to get reacquainted with it. For Mike Weatherford's entertainment columns, I always rely on the Review-Journal's website. It's not the same. I can't wait to hold a newspaper again, to know that this is my area's newspaper, and have it feel like home. I've waited so long for that feeling.
The plan is that they'll get to Vegas by Tuesday afternoon, Dad will go to the job interview, and then they'll drive back. With luck, it won't be long until we're back there again, all of us, looking for that one sizable apartment that feels like home. No home maintenance again. Let someone else handle a leaky faucet or a stove repair without it costing us anything.
Today, I found that there's a writers' group in Henderson. And of course there's the JCC (Jewish Community Center) of Southern Nevada in Henderson. So I'm set. Finally I want to live in my area, not just exist as it has been for these years in Santa Clarita. I feel like we'll get there, we'll get settled, I'll find a full-time job (I know exactly what I want to do), and life will be really good. That's all I want.