Hey there, independence — The first day
Technically, it hasn’t even been a month since I started living on my own, but it has been… almost!
Back when I moved three and a half weeks ago, I read some online horoscope that mentioned how I had just overcome a huge, troublesome barrier in my life, suggesting to channel all energies toward making something.
I took back on drawing when I made time for it a few days after moving, but to be honest, between work and just living my young adult life in general I’ve not been able to persevere on that front. I want to actually get back to drawing and maybe even try selling what I do, but my artwork doesn’t seem like quite the outlet I want-slash-need to vent.
Which is why I decided to start this blog, or, well, publication. Who would have thought living by yourself would be such a… thing?
But I guess I should start by making a point of why I even started to live by myself in the first place in an age where not leaving the nest becomes more and more commonplace.
Up until last year, I hadn’t really noticed how coddled I’d been throughout my life. I never had to work and whenever I wanted something I could get my mom to get it for me, for the most part. Never asked for anything too extravagant, and I lived comfortably enough to only have to worry about college… until I fought with my mom and we stopped living together.
The traumatic event that led me to not talk to my mom for quite some time hit just as I working in an internship where I felt uncomfortable, which led me to quit said miserable place.
Eventually I moved in with my aunt and found a new internship, which led me to getting a full time job there and afterward entering a sister organization as its Creative Director.
At my aunt’s place, while I paid rent, I didn’t have to cook or pay any other bill. I took out the dog and cleaned things up like any other decent person would, I had my room and a sense of independence.
Everything was fine and dandy until I had to move out of it, as the room I was in was really my cousin’s, who was coming back from Italy after two years of absence. There weren’t any other rooms available and we all worried that space concerns would lead us to fight over meaningless domestic situations, and after almost a year, I went back to live with my mom.
Going back there felt familiar, yet new, as even though I was in the same house, I wasn’t back in my old room. I thought I might be able to put up with my mom and her slob of a boyfriend, but the mental effort required to even be there on a weekend was too much, and after six months, I moved out. Not to a relative’s house, not to a friend’s place, but to a brand new place, one where I live with a person I still wouldn’t say I know.
In my previous years of existence, I never had moved anywhere, and when I did, I had people who helped me move, free of charge. At most I had requested help for moving my bed, which was too big to fit in the car.
When I moved in this time I was expecting it to be more or less the same, and pay the same I had the time before.
As I googled the company that served me previously, I noticed the rates not only were higher, they didn’t even have service on the day I needed it for.
In the end I went with a freighter I found on a local Craigslist equivalent. I was prepared to spend a bit less than 50 USD on the whole thing at first, but the freighter said he’d do it for 80, to which I agreed, considering the urgency and how nice he seemed. As he came and helped me put in all my things in his truck, the fear that this was the first of many unexpected expenses loomed in my head.
Assuring me I’d be okay on my own as he drove around town while nonchalantly smoking a cigarrete, we eventually arrived at my new home. Not only did he park right across the door, –even though there was no parking spot–, he actually helped me move everything all the way up to the ninth floor! But all things come at a price.
As I was about to pay him, he told me it’d be a bit more, about 20 more dollars to be precise. What could I do? Could I say no to the man who went the extra mile, even though it was completely unnecessary, even more so after charging for it? While I could have denied the price hike, the deeds had already been done.
I told him to wait and let me go to the nearest ATM so I could grab more money, after all, who knows when I might need his services again? I didn’t want to fight, and he had been nice, assuring me everything would be okay… even if he was risking a ticket or worse by smoking while driving, parking in an illegal place and who knows what else. Then again, he said he used to a cop, so I guess it’s okay?
And that was my first day.
After unpacking, my first night went smoothly, and on the next day I went shopping to outfit my bathroom. Who would have thought that getting your own bath rug could be so much fun? Note that of course, I didn’t know I’d have to buy one in the first place. Another unexpected expense. ⁂
♫ Currently listening to…
At the moment, I’m not clear on how many posts I plan to write on a weekly basis, or if I’ll even have a schedule to begin with, but writing is a strangely therapeutic activity, so depending on how much I have to say, I might just end up posting way more than what is healthy.
This is also a fun little design project, so if you’re into that let me know, I might make a post dedicated to designers and money concerns!
In the mean time, if you’d like you can connect with me in the following ways:
See you soon!
