I started going through some of my boxes that have been packed up since I moved home. It was time to get them into totes, throw away stuff I don’t want, and organize my life. Part of it was to make more room in my step dad’s man cave, part of it was to get ready for NYC. I have A LOT of crap.
As I was going through it all and thinking about where I would put these things in my NYC apartment, it slapped me a little. MY NYC APARTMENT. NYC. It scared me. I hadn’t realized how comfortable I had gotten here. How normal it had become. I enjoy seeing the people in my life whenever I feel like. Or at least knowing that they’re there. That won’t be the case for much longer. And for the first time that’s frightening me. I don’t know if this is what cold feet feels like but I can imagine that it’s similar. And so far it’s not enough to keep me from going through with the move, but I fear that it will as November gets closer.
I know moving is a scary thing. Especially since I’ve chosen one of the biggest cities in the world. But there’s something inside me that says I have to do this. And I hope that part stays stronger than this little fear creeping in. Even if I get there and decide to come back in a week.
I feel like this is going to get more stressful as the days go on.