Ties that Bind...

I watched you pack up your apartment in a matter of hours it seemed. You posted and re-posted on craigslist offering up the last of your freecycled furniture and managed to turn a profit off the pieces you’d accumulated over the months. I was impressed. And jealous. And sad.

Your ability to take flight, literally, made me feel all the more stifled and tied down. I’m grateful for the life I’ve made but I have too many things.

I have an apartment and it’s pretty and I love it.
I have furniture and it’s heavy and hard to move.
I have clothes that overflow from every dresser and closet and plastic bin.
I love this and I hate this.

The life I’ve made for myself here is valuable and valid. It’s evidence of my existence, of my efforts to create a home.

And yet, watching you climb out of my car that morning, all limbs and luggage, it seemed so unfair.

You are quick to make friends, quick to build experiences, and quick to create stories, but you never knotted yourself to me. You made it easy to pick up and take off and start anew.

You left me behind. Saddled now with not just my life, but pieces of yours; your boxes and our memories and a check to cash when your bank account was full again.

Maybe I Should Change the Name of this Blog

Yup, it's official. I got a job :)

After sending out my resume to over a hundred companies and drafting industry-appropriate cover letters; after whining to my parents and driving my friends crazy; after hours of babysitting and paid research studies, I can finally say: I'M EMPLOYED!

I think the hardest part now is picking up and leaving the world I've been a part of for the past 4 years. Hyde Park is certainly far from paradise but I carved out a homey niche for myself. My apartment, with its Pepto-Bismol pink walls and sticky kitchen floor, was a haven for me during the iciest days of winter and kept me safe from dining hall food and dorm germs.

Now it's on to the next apartment. My friend A and I have been searching all over craigslist hoping to find a 2 bedroom 2 bathroom unit that isn't underground and doesn't smell like stale beer. Unfortunately, I'm stuck in Chicago until the movers come in two weeks and A is busy at work all day. So, the main apartment hunter: my mom. That's what mothers are for, right? I've booked tours and appointments for her every day this week, barely allowing her time for lunch in between building visits. With little sister S playing chauffeur, mom has been trekking all over downtown DC in search of the perfect new place.

Fingers crossed A and I find an apartment we both love before the end of the week, otherwise all my belongings will sit in "movers limbo" somewhere between Chicago and Washington.

I'm looking forward to the next phase of my life but I have to say... I'm going to miss you hyDe parK.

Utter Indecisiveness

Decisions, decisions, decisions...

Do I want to live in a fun neighborhood full of bars and restaurants and people up all night OR do I want to live somewhere mellow and quiet and relaxing?

Do I want to live by myself and find a place close to work OR do I want to suffer through a traffic-jammed commute every morning in order to live with my best friend?

Do I want the additional safety and security of a building with amenities (doorman, video surveillance, etc) OR do I want to pay less and trust my instincts?

I'm so indecisive about everything. I feel like I should have at least a sense of what I want, but I don't. My mom reminds me how I hate driving and therefore probably want to minimize my morning commute by living close to the main road I take to work. This makes sense. But, just when that starts to sound like the way to go, my friend A starts telling me about the amazing social scene on the other side of town. Then that starts to make sense. After all, how bad can the drive home be if I come back every evening to unbeatable happy hour specials? I don't want to live alone because I hate coming home to an empty apartment, but I don't want to live somewhere I can't afford simply because that's what my friend wants. Then it's like, sure I have a fabulous luxury apartment, but I can't afford to eat. ever.

I feel like I just need someone to shake me and say "KAT WHAT DO YOU WANT?" Sometimes I can't even remember anymore...

When it comes to figuring out the future, things get tricky. Friendships can start to feel like business relationships, and the guy who works for the moving company starts to feel like your best friend. You begin to detest the family members you love, and the ones who normally drive you crazy start to feel like the only people you can talk to.

I guess, like anything else, transitions are a flip flop time. Does everyone feel like this?

Panic Monsters and Anxiety Gnomes

The episodes of panic are suffocating. Sheer terror grips me for several minutes at a time and I lie in my bed completely immobilized.

I picture small anxiety gnomes hopping on my head and swinging from my earlobes, fighting each other and clamoring loudly to force entry into my body. Some wriggle into my ears. Other squirm their way into my nostrils. The really feisty anxiety gnomes hold my nose and pry open my lips and when I gasp for much needed oxygen they jump onto my tongue and slide down towards the back of my throat causing me to gag on their oily, bitter bodies.

This is not a dream.

Every morning my alarm goes off (at a reasonable hour - I'm unemployed, mind you) and after I switch off "Tune_AssemblyLine", I lie in bed for several minutes thinking. A piece of advice to other recent grads without full time jobs: DO NOT THINK FIRST THING IN THE MORNING. If you do, here's what will happen.

It's early - your usual guards are down. You are tired. You don't have the energy to smile yet and act peppy. You start thinking whether it's time to get up and brush your teeth. Then, you think, well - if I'm getting up to brush my teeth I might as well get up officially for the day. You might think about the breakfast you'll make which will remind you that today was also the day you swore you'd go to the gym. But, thinking about the gym makes you remember the unopened How To Become A Personal Trainer textbook sitting on your bookshelf which makes you recall your earlier determination to get PT certified and get a job in health & fitness. You look at your bookshelf. You can't help but notice the pile of old clothes and shoes you set aside months ago hoping to give to the homeless. Of course, when you called the shelter they informed you that they did not want any of YOUR clothes but rather men's dress clothes. Um. Okayyyy. So there they sat. A bag of women's tank tops and cardigans; t-shirts and sweatpants; slippers and toiletries. What was once the inklings of a selfless good deed, has become a constant reminder that I a) still live in the apartment I lived in for 3 years of college. b) Am apparently too self-centered and egotistical to find a Salvation Army drop off near campus and c) So frazzled and stressed I'm clearly multi-tasking and inevitably accomplishing even less than if I sat down and completed task by task individually. I am scattered. I am scattered and I am panicked.

More specifically, today is July 13th. On August 18th the renters come back and I need to have my bed, dresser, desk, couch, armchairs, rugs, kitchen table, microwave, lamps, storage containers, clothes, shoes, TV, coffee table, and bookshelves packed up and moved away from this apartment. Where these items will go - I have no idea. Will they stay nearby in a new Hyde Park apartment? Will the travel north towards Lincoln Park / Wrigleyville? Or, will my belongings inevitably begin the 12 hour trip back to DC?

and, And, ANDDD on August 18th, will I know where I'm going? Will I have any sort of plan in place?

This limbo world is way less relaxing than I thought it would be. I can't wait for the anxiety gnomes to stop attacking my face every morning.