I returned to Houston after the many tragedies in Central Texas looking for some kind of answer that I am not sure I ever found. But, when I lined up an internship at an affluent organization, it was the place that I was able to land even as heartbroken as I felt.

The organization negotiated a lease agreement with the nearby apartment complex, that quite frankly, I don’t think I would have been able to broker on my own. So, I moved in with another intern as a roommate per the program.

The apartment worked well for us, even if the design of the second story entry was a tight squeeze with furniture.

What I really remember specific to the apartment was at the end of the internship, coming up with an exit strategy while experiencing a violent stomach bug. I don’t know if I had eaten something that I shouldn’t of or if the effect was caused by something viral that was going around at the time. I remember feeling ill one evening and staying awake, struggling not to head to an ER because I was concerned about what a hospital deductible would do to the little bit of savings I had. If I could just wait until the morning, I could head to a minute clinic or even my primary care physician.

It turned out that I required both after making through an otherwise excruciating night. I couldn’t keep fluids down and the small clinic I attended advised that I was better off heading to a more equipped facility. I was so weak I couldn’t drive myself, but thankfully had a family member shuttle me to the larger practice. I am sure that I looked like death.

And that was about 24 hours before I was slated to haul my futon from my room and head to my next adventure.

Moving, especially in Texas heat, is at best an art of it’s own. Doing so without the benefit of any strength from nourishment adds a whole other dimension.

I was deflated, drained of any kind of energy, and still knew that the clock was ticking on the lease.

The property was warm and understanding as my family basically did the heavy lifting on the move.

I selected a track this week that both honors the property’s name as well as a personal affinity for this ’80’s music that lands on 45’s. I imagine the jukebox this track “Red Red Wine” from UB40 must have spun in. I imagine a tiki dive bar for some reason. And, for those wondering; I am not really into wine, but this song is a winner in my book.

That’s what I have this week. If you are in the market for a nice Galleria area apartment, The Bordeaux might just be the right answer for you. Until we meet again, take care of one another.