It's now time for just the terror with Nick Guerra. A missing reality.

Little backstory.

I've lived in Central Florida my entire life. When I was 20 I met

Jack in an online video game and fell in love. He lived in Indiana. After four years of long distance I moved to Indiana to live with him.

That was two years ago. It was May when I moved.

Jack flew down to make the 18-hour drive up to Indiana with me.

We loaded up my belongings, along with my dog and my cat, into my tiny hatchback and set off to my new home. Took a couple of months for me to find a job.

I entered the workforce straight out of high school and never went to college,

so my experience was all in pet stores and zoos.

Growing up in Central Florida

meant there were always theme parks and zoos for the tourists.

I had professionally worked with animals since I was 15.

We always had a plethora of pets when I was a kid.

Caring for animals was the only thing I knew how to do. In Northern Indiana, the animal husbandry jobs were scarce. It was an industrial area. Jack and I lived in a tiny town a few hours north of Indianapolis,

and the only things around were cornfields and factories.

There were run down churches and gas stations and a McDonald's speckled on street intersections

but for the most part the entire area was fields and huge factories

warehouses there were no zoos or pet stores anywhere within reasonable daily driving distance.

So I spent a few months after getting settled in my new home working in a factory.

It was an assembly job. I sat in a chair for 10 hours a day and assembled thousands of air pumps.

You know the kind they attached to bubblers and fish tanks, those kind, was tedious and mind-numbing.

I'd spent my entire life working with animals, and I couldn't handle staring at my hands for

...