Since I'm currently out of the job, I've thrown myself into packing up my house. I'm moving to a new place next weekend and my bedroom has never looked so sparse. After the initial "Man, I have a lot of crap" thoughts, it was easy to just keep working away at making sure things are safely wrapped and packed for travel. The one thing that keeps bubbling up in my mind, however, is how strange it feels to watch myself gradually disappear from my home. In a week, it'll be as if I never lived here. Sure, I've made a few distinguishable marks on the place, but to the new tenants it won't make the slightest difference. These thoughts should be eclipsed by the excitement I have about moving into the new place (read: Upgrade!), but I simply cannot shake them.
About the new place, it is pretty great. It's in a new area that's a bit more relaxed than Mission Valley. There will finally be a place for my guests to park and I'll be able to buy all of the groceries I want without worrying about how many trips I'm going to have to make to my car. The good thing about this new location is that I get a chance to experience new places and people. I have to admit, though, that I'm not really all that fond of the idea. I've been moving around all my life and it's made it really tough to connect with people. Somewhere deep down it there's a voice that says "Don't get too attached. This is only temporary."
Oh, and as for the marks I've made on my current place? Thank you, Magic Eraser.
No comments:
Post a Comment