I realized just now that my bedroom window will always need to look out onto a tree.
Right now I’m searching for ways to turn this new place I haven’t been able to stop thinking about into my home. It’s currently a collection of rooms with things half-unpacked, empty boxes, and crinkled newspaper strewn about. Having a tree to look at before I fall asleep and when I wake up makes it feel familiar.
I made the big leap of faith four days ago and have been feeling every range of possible emotion about it. I feel happy about all the possibilities, a little lonely without the noise of family, anxious about what’s to come, but glad that I made the jump. I had my first solo grocery shopping trip, a failed mission to carry a sofa in, 50+ trips up and down several flights of stairs, and several surprisingly decent meals.
I am officially completely moved in and partially furnished. I have lists of things to get and neatly folded pages detailing my ideal setup. It’s beginning to feel normal in a way, while remaining totally new and wild. I say it’s wild because I’ve never so much as spent a month on my own. I stayed home for college. The longest I’ve ever “lived by myself” was when I stayed in a friend’s apartment by myself for two weeks in San Francisco (a long story that’s suited for a different blog post).
This is a whole new ball game. I’m my own sole provider. That’s new. It’s scary. I have so much to learn and so many things to get accustom to and I’m ready for it.
That’s all for now.
Until next time,
Julia
Fly with Time 