Well it’s official: I’m moving again. I can’t believe it’s already been a year at this place (at least, in six weeks it will be). Thinking of everything that happened in the last year, it’s really really hard to believe. My last job and this apartment overlapped for only three months. My new job will overlap barely one. The eight remaining months? That time absolutely flew by, for better or worse. Last March, I expected that the year I’d live here would be the best so far. Shockingly, that actually turned out to be mostly true. However, basically none of the good times (and most of the bad, for that matter) happened here, and I’ve learned a hell of a lot about myself over these months as it pertains to my living preferences.
My life is turning a corner, and it’s time to move on, both literally and figuratively. While I enjoyed having someone else around to be social with when I wanted to be, complications, starting in early June and continuing on through to now, have turned my situation into more of an annoyance and a burden than a blessing. In late September, I was unwillingly forced to let a stranger into my house for six months, and while it’s not really been that bad at all, it’s wearing on me more and more every day. Especially now that one has become two. After the holidays, I came back to my apartment having been wildly transformed while away. I felt like my space had been annexed and it no longer belonged to me, even a little. It’s been getting worse every day, this feeling of dis-ownership.
After college I swore off roommates. Last time I thought about moving, however, I looked back fondly on my senior year as being a fun time with friends. I’ve come to see the fault in my logic: for me, living with friends is great, especially friends you can be honest and open with. However, living with someone you barely know? That’s not really a good idea unless by some miracle you can hit it off immediately, which for someone like me is rare. Anyway, my point is, I need my space and I feel like here it’s collapsing in on me.
Since this lease is over in six weeks and I sure as hell am not going to subject myself to the stress of finding a new roommate for my two-bedroom apartment, I already went ahead and signed on for a single just a few doors around the corner. Sure, it’s going to cost me a fortune compared to what I’ve paid these last two-and-a-half years, but now I can afford it thanks to an awesome new job. Besides, it’s more evident to me now than ever that it’s worth the added cost. That’s to say nothing of leaving this place and all its bad energy in the past. And while I’ll be essentially at the same address, I really like it here in this complex. Hopefully, I find that even the smallest change of scenery will make life infinitely more enjoyable.
Before this, I had also thought about moving to San Francisco. While that might be a now-attainable dream, the reality of an apartment search in the city is hellish, according to many stories I’ve read, and I’m not sure I want to inflict upon myself that kind of stress either. I like the town where I live now and maybe I really do just belong in the suburbs. We’ll see if I come around to that, I suppose. March 2015? …I’ve spent too much time looking toward the future in these last 11 years. Right now, I’ve got a job to do, and to do well. And then, maybe in a little while, I’ll think about it. It’s time to live in the present, for once.
So, come the first day of spring, I’ll be carrying my stuff across the courtyard to my new awesome place. I can’t wait, seriously. I want that measure of control over my home life back.
And for those who care even a little, moving here last year did turn out to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, all things considered. Being here has allowed for experiences that would never have been possible back in the valley and it’s set me up for a great future. Baby steps, people.