I’m getting my own place.
Finally.
I have lived on my own before and as lonely as I worried I would be, I loved it. I also worried my place would be a complete mess and would lack in any sense of stylistic cohesion. I was right about that part.
I had this wonderful roommate when I first moved to Japan. She was amazing, kind and patient – things I am not (as a roommate – in all other areas? D’uh!). After her year, she returned to Canada. I worried that I would be roomed with someone not nearly as relaxed or cool, or a complete nutter. Luckily, no one was assigned to live with me and thus began the Summertime Clothing Optional Policy in my apartment. To even begin to understand how hot Japanese summers can be, take a quick trip to the sun and then multiply that by 83. Although the accuracy of this statement cannot be verified, know that I would not lie.
When I finally moved back from across the pond … the Pacific pond, the plan was six months and then peace out, chumps! Things didn’t exactly go as planned. Six months turned into … much longer. I had no job to speak of but somehow found money to gallivant across the globe once, twice or a few times – more than was reasonable for someone sans means. I don’t regret the opportunities I’ve enjoyed but hindsight is annoying and so is knowing that I should have had my fun while forging whoever it is I will become professionally.
A good friend told me about an apartment becoming available in the new year. I wasn’t sure if it was the right move (*badum tsss) at first but I slept on it and decided the next morning that I would be incredibly foolish not to take the place. I’m pretty sure I went to bed knowing my decision but I had to make it seem as though I was giving this some serious ‘adult’ thought as opposed to just suffering tunnel vision and saying yes right away. This is something I like to do. A lot. It’s how I ended up with these.
Last week I signed my lease and gave my future landlord a whole bunch of money that could have spent on more boots (OMG RESPONSIBILITY!!) and it feels good. I’m sure I’ll get over that feeling quickly.
The love I have for my parents cannot be put into words. They have allowed me to disrupt their lives for far too long, however, for our collective sanity this is long overdue. I shall not dilly-dally any further. As a bonus, while learning to navigate this new (again) found responsibility, I will probably find inspiration in the mundane to blog more. Posts will either elicit nostalgia on the part of the reader/renter/homeowner, “Oh, those were the days!”, or eye-rolling from people that think I should have grown up a long time ago and insist that I’m not special. That second group of people are jerks, and that last part certainly isn’t true.
I will miss Boots incredible amounts but we’ll have sleepovers.
She’s probably dreaming of eating.
*Audible sigh 