I moved to Colorado last week. I’ve been very zen about it, very meta. It kind of feels like nothing has changed, even though everything is different. Except me, I’m not different at all. I can always be counted on to make a mess out of a seemingly simple situation.
I life-hacked the shite out of our packing and moving process. I triple-planned down to the most minute detail. Alex and I were on-task, on-schedule, and ready to say goodbye to the first home we’d shared together.
“This is the last time we will ever shut this door,” he said.
It was in that moment of nostalgia and sentimentality that I realized I couldn’t find my phone. No big deal, it was just sitting inside the windowsill a few feet from the three sets of keys we’d locked inside for the landlord.
A 45 minute wait for the locksmith + $70 later, we were finally ready for our two-day drive.
I planned to take a week off from blogging so I could housewife the shite out of our new place. Instead, I accidentally published this post about my boss peeing in a cup and then sent a new post out to email subscribers that isn’t even live on the blog yet.
Reading everyone’s replies of “hey, the link isn’t working” and “I can’t comment” made me spiral into a series-finale-of-Dexter sort of meltdown. But then I realized this was a very Elizabeth Gilbert-esque opportunity to reframe my perspective and remind all of you to sign up for my e-mail list. Because apparently it gives you access to all sorts of random nonsense I don’t even mean to share.
Thankfully everything around here is distractingly beautiful.
It’s also cold. I’ve never really been the type of person to own winter clothes. I’m more of an “I inherited this sweatshirt from my brother in 1997 and plan to wear it everyday from November until March” kind of person. But I’m really trying.
Everyone keeps asking me how I’m doing, how I like it, and whether we’re adjusting well. I don’t know… I mostly feel like I’m on vacation. I seem to have the memory of a goldfish when it comes to major life changes. I spent almost five years at my soul-sucking job, but it hasn’t crossed my mind unless I’m responding to comments or getting a text from Mandi.
A part of me wonders whether there is something wrong with me. Maybe I have some sort of attachment disorder or an addiction to chaos. I’m probably just on a delayed reaction to reality and will be writing things like “WTF WHERE AM I” in a few weeks.
Until then, I savor the uncertainty of it all. Even though it doesn’t really feel all that different right now, I know I’ve interrupted my trajectory. I’m operating from a blind spot for a while. But I don’t mind. I tend to thrive in the blind spots. We’ll see what happens next.
How do YOU feel about major life changes? Where do you thrive? Do you have any blind spots in your life right now?
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