This week has been wild, crazy and very stressful. But its official, I no longer have an apartment and I’m done working for now.
Lots of sweat and tears went in to clearing out my little pocket of the world. After three years in one spot, it’s crazy to see how much STUFF can be accumulated. This apartment has been, by far, my favorite place I’ve lived since I moved out of my parent’s home 9 years ago. Yes the heat never really worked, yes the hospital across the street often had an influx of ambulances during the night, and yes it was only 398 sq. ft, but all 398 of them were mine.
Driving my packed car back to NY
This apartment was more to me than a beautiful space. It was my haven. It was the first place I ever lived on my own. Everything was mine and exactly to my liking. If it was a mess, it was my mess and it was my responsibility. While living in this apartment I learned how to be alone; to cope with struggle and to celebrate accomplishments with myself. I also learned that sometimes a good cry with no one around can heal many wounds.
Now, I’ve left my lovely solo apartment for a thrilling solo adventure. But on the road, you’re never really alone.
When I head to Asia I will embrace the life of a backpacker, where I will have no space of my own. The only possessions I’ll have will be carried on my back. The irony is not lost on me.
The lead image is what my prim and proper apartment looked like. This is what remains. A car loaded to the brim with things for storage at my parents. All of my furniture, the majority of my kitchen, and everything else in between has been sold or given away.
This is what remains of my belongings.
Now that I’ve had a few days to settle, I’m starting to feel the full weight of the next nine months. It’s really happening. I’m really going. In just over a month I will be on a plane heading halfway around the world.