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life & style // no. 16 theotherpress.ca
Moving to a Gulf Island during COVID-19
» How this pandemic and Galiano changed my life
Morgan Hannah
Life & Style Editor
wasn't ready. One can never quite be
ready for much of the whole world
shutting down. And, while millions of
people were affected—some greater
than others—my story is one of loss and
personal devastation that actually turned
out for the better.
2020 was my last semester at Douglas
College before graduation. To have the
satisfaction of graduating after putting
in as much hard work as | had was all I
could dream of and hope for! Instead, a
semester of writing meaningful memoirs
and poetry was cut short and I was forced
into isolation on my birthday. Writing for
the Other Press was one of the only things
that kept me sane during the never-ending
quarantine. At least my editors were still
reading my words.
The plan was to return to Indonesia for
a month-long stay come September. But,
when international travel plans were shut
down, it truly felt like my independence
was stripped from me. As someone with
asthma, I have to take extra precautions
against a respiratory disease such as
COVID-19. So, I found myself reliant on my
partner (working in an essential service) for
income. When youre in your late twenties
and have to bum off your boyfriend, it
doesn’t really help with self-esteem...
I fought an internal battle with myself
many times about whether to risk going
back out into public and getting another
job; I would secure some WhatsApp
interviews, nail them, then hum and
haw about my safety for a couple of days.
Ultimately, the offers were never worth
the risk, and that was truly frustrating
considering the high cost of living in
Vancouver and the hoops one has to jump
through to obtain CERB payments. It felt
like I was going to have to give up and take
a step backwards in life: moving back in
with the parents in Alberta. Eww.
Ina last-ditch effort, I thought of
the broader and bigger picture: if college
is over and I can barely afford to remain
in my current home, what’s keeping me
here? I began applying to a whack load
of positions all over British Columbia,
desperately searching for a job that I could
walk to—to avoid transit—when I came
across an ad fora barista on a beautiful gulf
island off the coast of Vancouver Island. For
shits and giggles, I applied. And the next
day, I got a reply—and it wasn’t what I was
expecting. The position was for a full-time
baker on Galiano Island.
I wasn't ready. One can never quite
be ready to uproot their entire life and
move off to an island with a population
that is just a little over one thousand
people and only one part-time doctor
during a pandemic. So, I turned down the
offer. But when the owner of the bakery
cc
= = in mes .
wries —
was persistent, I rethought the offer and
tentatively planned a trip out to the island,
if only just to see what it would be like.
Once | arrived on Galiano Island, I
immediately fell in love with the place—
stunning cliffside homes, white shell
beaches with private swing sets, a quaint
little “downtown,” and an even quainter
community—I was sold! The best part was
the exclusivity; not just anyone could get a
job on the island. The next step was to find
somewhere to live, however, my luck must
have finally been changing. During my
interview at the bakery, a customer walked
in and happened to be advertising that her
cottage was for rent. My partner and J went
to check the place out and found it to be
a wood and glass castle practically—and
it was half the cost of our upper unit in
Vancouver!
A month later, I’m settled on the
island, living in the amazing home, and
working as a full-time baker—waking up
at 4am, working hard, and bringing home
the dough... pun intended. But this is not
where my story ends. It turns out some
evil forces were brewing in the shadows of
the bakery and my demise was near. I was
backed into a corner and forced to quit.
Long story short, I was blindsided with
false accusations that truly left me raw and
untrusting, and panic began to set in. I just
spent everything I had to move to an island
with limited work opportunities in the
middle of a pandemic and now was out of a
job! What now?
Day one without a job: I raged. I cried.
I melted into the couch and stared out the
window and into the forest surrounding
me. Day three without a job: if not for my
Photo by Morgan Hannah
partner, I wouldn't have left the house.
I’m glad I did though. Turns out the local
inn was hiring. Originally, I applied as a
housekeeper and then shortly found myself
promoted to the front desk. Things were
finally looking up for me again!
A little time has passed since then and
I finally have a routine developed again.
My current job is better than the one I
moved out here for, the people are great,
and watching the sunset on a variety of
semi-private beaches and hilltops has been
tranquility at its finest. The cherry on top is
that everything is within walking distance!
I wake up each morning feeling more at
peace than I have felt in five years. So, not
a bad plan B during these unprecedented
times. I can only pray that others might
find suitable plan B’s for their uprooted
lives too.
It turns out some evil forces were brewing in the shadows
of the bakery and my demise was near.
Moving to a Gulf Island during COVID-19
» How this pandemic and Galiano changed my life
Morgan Hannah
Life & Style Editor
wasn't ready. One can never quite be
ready for much of the whole world
shutting down. And, while millions of
people were affected—some greater
than others—my story is one of loss and
personal devastation that actually turned
out for the better.
2020 was my last semester at Douglas
College before graduation. To have the
satisfaction of graduating after putting
in as much hard work as | had was all I
could dream of and hope for! Instead, a
semester of writing meaningful memoirs
and poetry was cut short and I was forced
into isolation on my birthday. Writing for
the Other Press was one of the only things
that kept me sane during the never-ending
quarantine. At least my editors were still
reading my words.
The plan was to return to Indonesia for
a month-long stay come September. But,
when international travel plans were shut
down, it truly felt like my independence
was stripped from me. As someone with
asthma, I have to take extra precautions
against a respiratory disease such as
COVID-19. So, I found myself reliant on my
partner (working in an essential service) for
income. When youre in your late twenties
and have to bum off your boyfriend, it
doesn’t really help with self-esteem...
I fought an internal battle with myself
many times about whether to risk going
back out into public and getting another
job; I would secure some WhatsApp
interviews, nail them, then hum and
haw about my safety for a couple of days.
Ultimately, the offers were never worth
the risk, and that was truly frustrating
considering the high cost of living in
Vancouver and the hoops one has to jump
through to obtain CERB payments. It felt
like I was going to have to give up and take
a step backwards in life: moving back in
with the parents in Alberta. Eww.
Ina last-ditch effort, I thought of
the broader and bigger picture: if college
is over and I can barely afford to remain
in my current home, what’s keeping me
here? I began applying to a whack load
of positions all over British Columbia,
desperately searching for a job that I could
walk to—to avoid transit—when I came
across an ad fora barista on a beautiful gulf
island off the coast of Vancouver Island. For
shits and giggles, I applied. And the next
day, I got a reply—and it wasn’t what I was
expecting. The position was for a full-time
baker on Galiano Island.
I wasn't ready. One can never quite
be ready to uproot their entire life and
move off to an island with a population
that is just a little over one thousand
people and only one part-time doctor
during a pandemic. So, I turned down the
offer. But when the owner of the bakery
cc
= = in mes .
wries —
was persistent, I rethought the offer and
tentatively planned a trip out to the island,
if only just to see what it would be like.
Once | arrived on Galiano Island, I
immediately fell in love with the place—
stunning cliffside homes, white shell
beaches with private swing sets, a quaint
little “downtown,” and an even quainter
community—I was sold! The best part was
the exclusivity; not just anyone could get a
job on the island. The next step was to find
somewhere to live, however, my luck must
have finally been changing. During my
interview at the bakery, a customer walked
in and happened to be advertising that her
cottage was for rent. My partner and J went
to check the place out and found it to be
a wood and glass castle practically—and
it was half the cost of our upper unit in
Vancouver!
A month later, I’m settled on the
island, living in the amazing home, and
working as a full-time baker—waking up
at 4am, working hard, and bringing home
the dough... pun intended. But this is not
where my story ends. It turns out some
evil forces were brewing in the shadows of
the bakery and my demise was near. I was
backed into a corner and forced to quit.
Long story short, I was blindsided with
false accusations that truly left me raw and
untrusting, and panic began to set in. I just
spent everything I had to move to an island
with limited work opportunities in the
middle of a pandemic and now was out of a
job! What now?
Day one without a job: I raged. I cried.
I melted into the couch and stared out the
window and into the forest surrounding
me. Day three without a job: if not for my
Photo by Morgan Hannah
partner, I wouldn't have left the house.
I’m glad I did though. Turns out the local
inn was hiring. Originally, I applied as a
housekeeper and then shortly found myself
promoted to the front desk. Things were
finally looking up for me again!
A little time has passed since then and
I finally have a routine developed again.
My current job is better than the one I
moved out here for, the people are great,
and watching the sunset on a variety of
semi-private beaches and hilltops has been
tranquility at its finest. The cherry on top is
that everything is within walking distance!
I wake up each morning feeling more at
peace than I have felt in five years. So, not
a bad plan B during these unprecedented
times. I can only pray that others might
find suitable plan B’s for their uprooted
lives too.
It turns out some evil forces were brewing in the shadows
of the bakery and my demise was near.
Edited Text
life & style // no. 16 theotherpress.ca
Moving to a Gulf Island during COVID-19
» How this pandemic and Galiano changed my life
Morgan Hannah
Life & Style Editor
wasn't ready. One can never quite be
ready for much of the whole world
shutting down. And, while millions of
people were affected—some greater
than others—my story is one of loss and
personal devastation that actually turned
out for the better.
2020 was my last semester at Douglas
College before graduation. To have the
satisfaction of graduating after putting
in as much hard work as | had was all I
could dream of and hope for! Instead, a
semester of writing meaningful memoirs
and poetry was cut short and I was forced
into isolation on my birthday. Writing for
the Other Press was one of the only things
that kept me sane during the never-ending
quarantine. At least my editors were still
reading my words.
The plan was to return to Indonesia for
a month-long stay come September. But,
when international travel plans were shut
down, it truly felt like my independence
was stripped from me. As someone with
asthma, I have to take extra precautions
against a respiratory disease such as
COVID-19. So, I found myself reliant on my
partner (working in an essential service) for
income. When youre in your late twenties
and have to bum off your boyfriend, it
doesn’t really help with self-esteem...
I fought an internal battle with myself
many times about whether to risk going
back out into public and getting another
job; I would secure some WhatsApp
interviews, nail them, then hum and
haw about my safety for a couple of days.
Ultimately, the offers were never worth
the risk, and that was truly frustrating
considering the high cost of living in
Vancouver and the hoops one has to jump
through to obtain CERB payments. It felt
like I was going to have to give up and take
a step backwards in life: moving back in
with the parents in Alberta. Eww.
Ina last-ditch effort, I thought of
the broader and bigger picture: if college
is over and I can barely afford to remain
in my current home, what’s keeping me
here? I began applying to a whack load
of positions all over British Columbia,
desperately searching for a job that I could
walk to—to avoid transit—when I came
across an ad fora barista on a beautiful gulf
island off the coast of Vancouver Island. For
shits and giggles, I applied. And the next
day, I got a reply—and it wasn’t what I was
expecting. The position was for a full-time
baker on Galiano Island.
I wasn't ready. One can never quite
be ready to uproot their entire life and
move off to an island with a population
that is just a little over one thousand
people and only one part-time doctor
during a pandemic. So, I turned down the
offer. But when the owner of the bakery
cc
= = in mes .
wries —
was persistent, I rethought the offer and
tentatively planned a trip out to the island,
if only just to see what it would be like.
Once | arrived on Galiano Island, I
immediately fell in love with the place—
stunning cliffside homes, white shell
beaches with private swing sets, a quaint
little “downtown,” and an even quainter
community—I was sold! The best part was
the exclusivity; not just anyone could get a
job on the island. The next step was to find
somewhere to live, however, my luck must
have finally been changing. During my
interview at the bakery, a customer walked
in and happened to be advertising that her
cottage was for rent. My partner and J went
to check the place out and found it to be
a wood and glass castle practically—and
it was half the cost of our upper unit in
Vancouver!
A month later, I’m settled on the
island, living in the amazing home, and
working as a full-time baker—waking up
at 4am, working hard, and bringing home
the dough... pun intended. But this is not
where my story ends. It turns out some
evil forces were brewing in the shadows of
the bakery and my demise was near. I was
backed into a corner and forced to quit.
Long story short, I was blindsided with
false accusations that truly left me raw and
untrusting, and panic began to set in. I just
spent everything I had to move to an island
with limited work opportunities in the
middle of a pandemic and now was out of a
job! What now?
Day one without a job: I raged. I cried.
I melted into the couch and stared out the
window and into the forest surrounding
me. Day three without a job: if not for my
Photo by Morgan Hannah
partner, I wouldn't have left the house.
I’m glad I did though. Turns out the local
inn was hiring. Originally, I applied as a
housekeeper and then shortly found myself
promoted to the front desk. Things were
finally looking up for me again!
A little time has passed since then and
I finally have a routine developed again.
My current job is better than the one I
moved out here for, the people are great,
and watching the sunset on a variety of
semi-private beaches and hilltops has been
tranquility at its finest. The cherry on top is
that everything is within walking distance!
I wake up each morning feeling more at
peace than I have felt in five years. So, not
a bad plan B during these unprecedented
times. I can only pray that others might
find suitable plan B’s for their uprooted
lives too.
It turns out some evil forces were brewing in the shadows
of the bakery and my demise was near.
Moving to a Gulf Island during COVID-19
» How this pandemic and Galiano changed my life
Morgan Hannah
Life & Style Editor
wasn't ready. One can never quite be
ready for much of the whole world
shutting down. And, while millions of
people were affected—some greater
than others—my story is one of loss and
personal devastation that actually turned
out for the better.
2020 was my last semester at Douglas
College before graduation. To have the
satisfaction of graduating after putting
in as much hard work as | had was all I
could dream of and hope for! Instead, a
semester of writing meaningful memoirs
and poetry was cut short and I was forced
into isolation on my birthday. Writing for
the Other Press was one of the only things
that kept me sane during the never-ending
quarantine. At least my editors were still
reading my words.
The plan was to return to Indonesia for
a month-long stay come September. But,
when international travel plans were shut
down, it truly felt like my independence
was stripped from me. As someone with
asthma, I have to take extra precautions
against a respiratory disease such as
COVID-19. So, I found myself reliant on my
partner (working in an essential service) for
income. When youre in your late twenties
and have to bum off your boyfriend, it
doesn’t really help with self-esteem...
I fought an internal battle with myself
many times about whether to risk going
back out into public and getting another
job; I would secure some WhatsApp
interviews, nail them, then hum and
haw about my safety for a couple of days.
Ultimately, the offers were never worth
the risk, and that was truly frustrating
considering the high cost of living in
Vancouver and the hoops one has to jump
through to obtain CERB payments. It felt
like I was going to have to give up and take
a step backwards in life: moving back in
with the parents in Alberta. Eww.
Ina last-ditch effort, I thought of
the broader and bigger picture: if college
is over and I can barely afford to remain
in my current home, what’s keeping me
here? I began applying to a whack load
of positions all over British Columbia,
desperately searching for a job that I could
walk to—to avoid transit—when I came
across an ad fora barista on a beautiful gulf
island off the coast of Vancouver Island. For
shits and giggles, I applied. And the next
day, I got a reply—and it wasn’t what I was
expecting. The position was for a full-time
baker on Galiano Island.
I wasn't ready. One can never quite
be ready to uproot their entire life and
move off to an island with a population
that is just a little over one thousand
people and only one part-time doctor
during a pandemic. So, I turned down the
offer. But when the owner of the bakery
cc
= = in mes .
wries —
was persistent, I rethought the offer and
tentatively planned a trip out to the island,
if only just to see what it would be like.
Once | arrived on Galiano Island, I
immediately fell in love with the place—
stunning cliffside homes, white shell
beaches with private swing sets, a quaint
little “downtown,” and an even quainter
community—I was sold! The best part was
the exclusivity; not just anyone could get a
job on the island. The next step was to find
somewhere to live, however, my luck must
have finally been changing. During my
interview at the bakery, a customer walked
in and happened to be advertising that her
cottage was for rent. My partner and J went
to check the place out and found it to be
a wood and glass castle practically—and
it was half the cost of our upper unit in
Vancouver!
A month later, I’m settled on the
island, living in the amazing home, and
working as a full-time baker—waking up
at 4am, working hard, and bringing home
the dough... pun intended. But this is not
where my story ends. It turns out some
evil forces were brewing in the shadows of
the bakery and my demise was near. I was
backed into a corner and forced to quit.
Long story short, I was blindsided with
false accusations that truly left me raw and
untrusting, and panic began to set in. I just
spent everything I had to move to an island
with limited work opportunities in the
middle of a pandemic and now was out of a
job! What now?
Day one without a job: I raged. I cried.
I melted into the couch and stared out the
window and into the forest surrounding
me. Day three without a job: if not for my
Photo by Morgan Hannah
partner, I wouldn't have left the house.
I’m glad I did though. Turns out the local
inn was hiring. Originally, I applied as a
housekeeper and then shortly found myself
promoted to the front desk. Things were
finally looking up for me again!
A little time has passed since then and
I finally have a routine developed again.
My current job is better than the one I
moved out here for, the people are great,
and watching the sunset on a variety of
semi-private beaches and hilltops has been
tranquility at its finest. The cherry on top is
that everything is within walking distance!
I wake up each morning feeling more at
peace than I have felt in five years. So, not
a bad plan B during these unprecedented
times. I can only pray that others might
find suitable plan B’s for their uprooted
lives too.
It turns out some evil forces were brewing in the shadows
of the bakery and my demise was near.
Moving to a Gulf Island during COVID-19
» How this pandemic and Galiano changed my life
Morgan Hannah
Life & Style Editor
wasn't ready. One can never quite be
ready for much of the whole world
shutting down. And, while millions of
people were affected—some greater
than others—my story is one of loss and
personal devastation that actually turned
out for the better.
2020 was my last semester at Douglas
College before graduation. To have the
satisfaction of graduating after putting
in as much hard work as | had was all I
could dream of and hope for! Instead, a
semester of writing meaningful memoirs
and poetry was cut short and I was forced
into isolation on my birthday. Writing for
the Other Press was one of the only things
that kept me sane during the never-ending
quarantine. At least my editors were still
reading my words.
The plan was to return to Indonesia for
a month-long stay come September. But,
when international travel plans were shut
down, it truly felt like my independence
was stripped from me. As someone with
asthma, I have to take extra precautions
against a respiratory disease such as
COVID-19. So, I found myself reliant on my
partner (working in an essential service) for
income. When youre in your late twenties
and have to bum off your boyfriend, it
doesn’t really help with self-esteem...
I fought an internal battle with myself
many times about whether to risk going
back out into public and getting another
job; I would secure some WhatsApp
interviews, nail them, then hum and
haw about my safety for a couple of days.
Ultimately, the offers were never worth
the risk, and that was truly frustrating
considering the high cost of living in
Vancouver and the hoops one has to jump
through to obtain CERB payments. It felt
like I was going to have to give up and take
a step backwards in life: moving back in
with the parents in Alberta. Eww.
Ina last-ditch effort, I thought of
the broader and bigger picture: if college
is over and I can barely afford to remain
in my current home, what’s keeping me
here? I began applying to a whack load
of positions all over British Columbia,
desperately searching for a job that I could
walk to—to avoid transit—when I came
across an ad fora barista on a beautiful gulf
island off the coast of Vancouver Island. For
shits and giggles, I applied. And the next
day, I got a reply—and it wasn’t what I was
expecting. The position was for a full-time
baker on Galiano Island.
I wasn't ready. One can never quite
be ready to uproot their entire life and
move off to an island with a population
that is just a little over one thousand
people and only one part-time doctor
during a pandemic. So, I turned down the
offer. But when the owner of the bakery
cc
= = in mes .
wries —
was persistent, I rethought the offer and
tentatively planned a trip out to the island,
if only just to see what it would be like.
Once | arrived on Galiano Island, I
immediately fell in love with the place—
stunning cliffside homes, white shell
beaches with private swing sets, a quaint
little “downtown,” and an even quainter
community—I was sold! The best part was
the exclusivity; not just anyone could get a
job on the island. The next step was to find
somewhere to live, however, my luck must
have finally been changing. During my
interview at the bakery, a customer walked
in and happened to be advertising that her
cottage was for rent. My partner and J went
to check the place out and found it to be
a wood and glass castle practically—and
it was half the cost of our upper unit in
Vancouver!
A month later, I’m settled on the
island, living in the amazing home, and
working as a full-time baker—waking up
at 4am, working hard, and bringing home
the dough... pun intended. But this is not
where my story ends. It turns out some
evil forces were brewing in the shadows of
the bakery and my demise was near. I was
backed into a corner and forced to quit.
Long story short, I was blindsided with
false accusations that truly left me raw and
untrusting, and panic began to set in. I just
spent everything I had to move to an island
with limited work opportunities in the
middle of a pandemic and now was out of a
job! What now?
Day one without a job: I raged. I cried.
I melted into the couch and stared out the
window and into the forest surrounding
me. Day three without a job: if not for my
Photo by Morgan Hannah
partner, I wouldn't have left the house.
I’m glad I did though. Turns out the local
inn was hiring. Originally, I applied as a
housekeeper and then shortly found myself
promoted to the front desk. Things were
finally looking up for me again!
A little time has passed since then and
I finally have a routine developed again.
My current job is better than the one I
moved out here for, the people are great,
and watching the sunset on a variety of
semi-private beaches and hilltops has been
tranquility at its finest. The cherry on top is
that everything is within walking distance!
I wake up each morning feeling more at
peace than I have felt in five years. So, not
a bad plan B during these unprecedented
times. I can only pray that others might
find suitable plan B’s for their uprooted
lives too.
It turns out some evil forces were brewing in the shadows
of the bakery and my demise was near.
Moving to a Gulf Island during COVID-19
» How this pandemic and Galiano changed my life
Morgan Hannah
Life & Style Editor
wasn't ready. One can never quite be
ready for much of the whole world
shutting down. And, while millions of
people were affected—some greater
than others—my story is one of loss and
personal devastation that actually turned
out for the better.
2020 was my last semester at Douglas
College before graduation. To have the
satisfaction of graduating after putting
in as much hard work as | had was all I
could dream of and hope for! Instead, a
semester of writing meaningful memoirs
and poetry was cut short and I was forced
into isolation on my birthday. Writing for
the Other Press was one of the only things
that kept me sane during the never-ending
quarantine. At least my editors were still
reading my words.
The plan was to return to Indonesia for
a month-long stay come September. But,
when international travel plans were shut
down, it truly felt like my independence
was stripped from me. As someone with
asthma, I have to take extra precautions
against a respiratory disease such as
COVID-19. So, I found myself reliant on my
partner (working in an essential service) for
income. When youre in your late twenties
and have to bum off your boyfriend, it
doesn’t really help with self-esteem...
I fought an internal battle with myself
many times about whether to risk going
back out into public and getting another
job; I would secure some WhatsApp
interviews, nail them, then hum and
haw about my safety for a couple of days.
Ultimately, the offers were never worth
the risk, and that was truly frustrating
considering the high cost of living in
Vancouver and the hoops one has to jump
through to obtain CERB payments. It felt
like I was going to have to give up and take
a step backwards in life: moving back in
with the parents in Alberta. Eww.
Ina last-ditch effort, I thought of
the broader and bigger picture: if college
is over and I can barely afford to remain
in my current home, what’s keeping me
here? I began applying to a whack load
of positions all over British Columbia,
desperately searching for a job that I could
walk to—to avoid transit—when I came
across an ad fora barista on a beautiful gulf
island off the coast of Vancouver Island. For
shits and giggles, I applied. And the next
day, I got a reply—and it wasn’t what I was
expecting. The position was for a full-time
baker on Galiano Island.
I wasn't ready. One can never quite
be ready to uproot their entire life and
move off to an island with a population
that is just a little over one thousand
people and only one part-time doctor
during a pandemic. So, I turned down the
offer. But when the owner of the bakery
cc
= = in mes .
wries —
was persistent, I rethought the offer and
tentatively planned a trip out to the island,
if only just to see what it would be like.
Once | arrived on Galiano Island, I
immediately fell in love with the place—
stunning cliffside homes, white shell
beaches with private swing sets, a quaint
little “downtown,” and an even quainter
community—I was sold! The best part was
the exclusivity; not just anyone could get a
job on the island. The next step was to find
somewhere to live, however, my luck must
have finally been changing. During my
interview at the bakery, a customer walked
in and happened to be advertising that her
cottage was for rent. My partner and J went
to check the place out and found it to be
a wood and glass castle practically—and
it was half the cost of our upper unit in
Vancouver!
A month later, I’m settled on the
island, living in the amazing home, and
working as a full-time baker—waking up
at 4am, working hard, and bringing home
the dough... pun intended. But this is not
where my story ends. It turns out some
evil forces were brewing in the shadows of
the bakery and my demise was near. I was
backed into a corner and forced to quit.
Long story short, I was blindsided with
false accusations that truly left me raw and
untrusting, and panic began to set in. I just
spent everything I had to move to an island
with limited work opportunities in the
middle of a pandemic and now was out of a
job! What now?
Day one without a job: I raged. I cried.
I melted into the couch and stared out the
window and into the forest surrounding
me. Day three without a job: if not for my
Photo by Morgan Hannah
partner, I wouldn't have left the house.
I’m glad I did though. Turns out the local
inn was hiring. Originally, I applied as a
housekeeper and then shortly found myself
promoted to the front desk. Things were
finally looking up for me again!
A little time has passed since then and
I finally have a routine developed again.
My current job is better than the one I
moved out here for, the people are great,
and watching the sunset on a variety of
semi-private beaches and hilltops has been
tranquility at its finest. The cherry on top is
that everything is within walking distance!
I wake up each morning feeling more at
peace than I have felt in five years. So, not
a bad plan B during these unprecedented
times. I can only pray that others might
find suitable plan B’s for their uprooted
lives too.
It turns out some evil forces were brewing in the shadows
of the bakery and my demise was near.