To be homeless or to be jobless…

Fourteen hours before getting on a train to Seattle, I got (and accepted) a job offer.  I get to start that job about 28 hours after getting back from my vacation.  Overlooking the fact that I won’t have any place to live and no time to find one, my life just took a turn for the happy.

I hope Mom doesn’t mind me turning this Seattle trip into an extended “I got a job” party.  Do they serve margaritas on trains?

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