I sit here on the floor using my coffee table as a table to write while the pastries bake for the farmers market. Instead of baking pastries or deserts I should be focussing on moving out, after all I am down to the last seven six days. But going to the farmers market and using the oven for one last time seemed like a fitting goodbye to this apartment, or at least I think so.
Every single time I do something, my constant thought is, oh it is the last time I will doing it. When I go run my typical route, I have the same thought, it is the last time I will be running past this. Maybe it is harder for me because I’m such a creature of habit and been running the same route for years.
For a while I never understood why I was being so emotional and dramatic about moving out, after all this is just another apartment that I pay rent every month for and it is not something I built. However, it hit me that in the last 4 years this was the place I called home. The place that was my comfort zone, the place that I come to get away, the place that made me feel safe….it was my home and sanctuary and I am leaving it all with just the memories. This realization made me feel so much better and helped me get off the roller coaster emotional ride I was on.
My typical Friday routine used to be ordering pizza, having a glass of wine or beer while I bake, but recently that had fallen by the way side. But this Friday, the last Friday before I move, I decided to order pizza, drink beer and bake.
On a Saturday morning, I have the music playing in the background while I bake and write, but today, I decided to skip the music and instead listen to the birds chirping in the distance while the fan whirls over me and the air condition hums in the background while random cars speeds down the street.
It is a hot humid 95 degrees this Saturday morning, but despite the annoying temperature I feel excited to be here and talk to those I see every Saturday and sell the baked stuff that I made. A few of my friends stop by knowing its gonna be a while before I head back to the market, making the 3 hours fly by.
Maybe because I see that finish line and I have a tentative plan for the next few months that makes me feel like the emotional roller coaster is slowing down. I am definitely not complaining, because I was tired of being an emotional wreck and letting everything get the best of me.
In the next few days I am moving in with a friend, which to say the least is scary, because I don’t remember when I last lived with someone else. Let me rephrase that, I don’t recall when I last lived in a space that was not mine.
I will continue to work because the people I work for want me to stay around for a little bit longer plus my best friend is coming to visit me from LA. There is no way I am missing out on seeing her or spending time with her.
My plans are tentative and short-term and I am unsure if not having a plan is scarier than having a plan.
Having a plan is great, but if I don’t live up to that plan, I will constantly beat myself up for it, whereas not having a plan maybe a little better, because I can make decisions as I go along. At least I say all those things to myself to feel better.
The important thing for me is that my roller coaster ride is coming to an end and I am just about ready to jump off.