Downsizing

I felt this bug once before in late June of 2013.  No, that’s not why.  Right before that, I was actually in the late stages of interviewing with a moderately-sized wind energy development firm, one which has an office based in San Francisco.  Even though I was still nine months from the time when my apartment lease was up, I had San Francisco living on my mind.

It’s no secret San Francisco is a very in-demand place to live.  Its relatively tiny footprint on this Earth further serves to decrease its supply of available residences.  As a result, space is at a premium and, had I chosen to move to the city at that time, I would no doubt have sprung for an efficient space, most likely a studio.

I am under the impression that I have too many things for a space barely larger than a single room.  This is either true, or just seems to be because of sprawl.  I currently live in a one-bedroom apartment that, to be realistic, is too large for me.  I have an entire swath of space left completely unfilled, further augmented by the rather prohibitive geometry of the complex.

Regardless of the facts, I’ve slowly begun to minimize my own footprint.  Not only is my area is incredibly inefficient, but I’m also holding on to too much solely for the sake of sentimentalism and nostalgia (as well as, I should mention, the potential for future use — except that sounds rather hoarder-like…).  Should I keep the chair that I used to climb all over when I was just a little tyke, or put it to the curb for the vultures because it’s awkwardly shaped and doesn’t really fit anywhere?  What about replacing the rapidly depreciating car that as the days go on only gets more and more unforgettable adventures tacked onto its CV?  Things (and people, for that matter) come and go.  Onwards to better and greater things, I should think.

Sometimes I lose things and I’m stricken by sadness.  I hate losing things.  It’s even harder to toss history away voluntarily.

But I get over it eventually.

My old one-room digs.
My old one-room digs.

In February and March, I will be fully executing this process, hopefully.  I need to trade my extra space in the quiet suburbs for a tiny plot in the city.  Not only will I be burdened by less, more simple and organized, but I feel like a tighter living quarter will push me out onto the street and into the sun.  The more I think about it, the more I flashback to college.  This is what happened, this is what I did, and it turned into one of the best times of my life.

For now I bide my time, building a new framework for another new life.  It will be a long wait until winter, but winter is coming.

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