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Mr. P. was out of my life and, if things went well, I would never see him again.  Good riddance, right?  I didn’t think so.  I’d had a boyfriend for the past eight years and a part of me felt that I couldn’t exist without a man in my life.

In case you were wondering, that means I suddenly became incredibly needy, throwing myself at men like some kind of lost puppy or something.

Around that time, my money ran out, and I had to stop going to college.  My parents’ deal with me had been that I would only stay in their house as long as I was still in school.  So once my money ran out, I had to get a job and move out.

The job I found was with Avon (you know, the door-to-door cosmetics people).  Once I had that all set up, I got my first apartment not too far from one of the local hospitals.  I was so excited.  My mom wasn’t that excited because the stove was gas powered and there was a faint smell of gas in the apartment that made her worry that there was a leak somewhere, not that I blame her.

Anyway, I was in that apartment for maybe six months.  I had a thousand dollars in the bank and that’s what kept me going, mostly, because I spent more on Avon than I made.

That was also the year that I started attending church at our stake’s young single adult branch.  The first time I went, someone came and picked me up for the meeting and I had decided that, unless someone walked up to me and tried to make me feel welcome, I wouldn’t come back.  I made it all the way through Sacrament Meeting without anyone speaking to me and I was starting to feel left out.  I walked, alone, into Sunday School and sat down.  That’s when a lovely young lady walked up to me and stretched out her hand.

“Hi,” she smiled, shaking my hand, “You’re new, aren’t you?  I’m S.  Welcome to the YV Branch.”

I opened my mouth to say hello and promptly started to cry.

“Oh, no!” S sympathized.  “Are you okay?”

I nodded, then explained to her what I’d decided prior to coming to church that day and how I’d made it all the way through Sacrament Meeting without anyone saying a word to me and how lonely I felt.  It just all spilled out.  S put her arm around my shoulder and assured me that this was where I belonged and, with another smile, told me that she looked forward to seeing me in Relief Society.  I couldn’t help it.  I smiled back.  It was only later that I learned that S was the branch Relief Society President.

About a month or so later, I ran out of money at the bank and had to leave Avon and my first apartment.  What did I learn?  I stink at door-to-door sales and any sales in general.

Since I had nowhere else to go, my folks let me move back in at their place.  I took another newspaper route and wondered what I was going to do with my life now.

How successful were you when you first moved out of your parents’ house?  Have you ever gone somewhere new wishing someone would speak to you?  Do you think you’d be able to support yourself by selling Avon?  Tell me!  I really want to know.

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