The Terrible Twenties No. 005


The Terrible Twenties: Moving

On Moving

When you’re 23 and living in a city, moving is just as regular as the seasons. At least it is for me and about 900 other people on Craigslist this month. I only moved into Sunny Meadows, my crazy communal home, 5 months ago, but I made the jump and moved to my own place this past weekend. I know, I’m that person. I promise that Sunny Meadows was never meant to be permanent though and now that I’m “on my feet” (not really) again, I decided to get my own space.

My life could have gone in any number of different directions recently, which is a terrific and strange feeling. Those of you who know me, know I’ve been trying to get the heck out of this city and spread my wings for a while now. The problem is always the same, money. I guess getting a slightly more expensive rent and a sleek new Comcast bill isn’t going to help my case any, but when I stepped foot into my new home for the first time, something felt right. I don’t know. I guess we’ll see how it goes, but in the mean time, I’m broke as heck, see you in June. I’m also insanely busy sorting pots and pans, scouring craigslist and trying to coerce my guy into helping me nail and drill and hammer things.

I said I wasn’t going to do anything big for a while, or make any commitments, or spend any money and in classic Rachel behavior, here I am: $700 in the hole, tired and changing. Oh to be in your 20s again, right?

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