Real Unreality

So, there's nothing left but to move. And while I've wanted this change for a while, in fact need it, the feelings of fear and confusion are definitely building. (As a side note, it's adding a degree of difficulty to start a new job while in house limbo.)

Someone dropped a charming cliche on me a while ago: Three moves equals one fire. I think I'd rather move three times than be burned out, but the stresses of moving are very real, and a lot more complex than the fear of the unknown. I think for me the idea of 'reprogramming' is the real pain point. I don't just have to re-organize my home life, but reconfigure every routine from where I go for a drink to what I do on a sunny weekend. It all feels both incredibly vivid and inescapable, and yet fictional, ephemeral.

The truck pulls up to the house on Thursday. I won't be there, so I'll be wondering the whole time what is happening. But Friday morning, I'll be opening the door to my new apartment and letting the movers start setting up my new life. It's impossible to know for sure, but I think at that moment, the start of my first New York weekend, will be the start of something great, and the nervousness will disappear.