About four years ago, while living in Baton Rouge, I had the opportunity to move to New Orleans. I had a place to live, a job lined up, and countless friends to entertain me. The city spread its arms and was ready to embrace all of me. Sure, there would be struggles– moving, adjusting, the heat, to name a few. But it was ready for me. My energy was inline with its and all I had to do is jump… I didn’t. I am not upset about that move, because for some reason I felt like the timing wasn’t right, which is okay, too.
Now, several years later, I moved to Chicago. I have been here for seven days and I am facing the reality of what it feels like when you have to penetrate yourself into a constantly moving, and highly functioning, organism (Ha. I said penetrate). Let me be the first to tell you, it is very hard to move across the country.
Before I went to bed last night I stared at a picture my mom took of my two roommates, Keith and Courtney, and me on Sunday. This was one week ago and I do not recognize the children gazing back at me. I have felt just about every emotion I can articulate since moving to Chicago and yet the prevalent one is simply, happiness. The struggle has been very real, but with great struggle there is surely great reward.
The reality is that I have hit the ground running, so they say. I have been on a job interview (should hear back today), viewed countless apartments (about 15 to be exact, and I am waiting to hear if we have been approved!), and been on a nice date. What more could I ask for? One thing I would like to note is that I feel at home in Chicago. I do miss my family and friends, terribly. But I have no regrets and I am just moving forward, or as Keith and I like to say: “Always go.”
Best, blog buddies.