…And I’m Moving On

Whoever coined the term bittersweet was a genius.  Today, I left my tiny apartment for a bigger, more adult two-bedroom down the road.  Logically, it was past time to upgrade.  Emotionally, however, I wasn’t fully ready to let go.

I moved into that third floor one-bedroom freshly single, still stinging and nervous to start fresh.  It was my first time living alone.  I spent my days working at Muffley and my nights overlooking a beautiful forest where, in the winter, you could see all the way to the road and watch the stoplight blink from red to green.  I started my first business in that apartment, read too many books, drank too much wine, watched a lot of Gilmore Girls, and found love again.

I’m not the same person who stepped through that door for the first time two years ago.  I, and my life, outgrew that small place.  And while I miss it already, it’s high time to move on.

I’m probably the only girl in the world who will write a eulogy for an apartment, but I don’t care.  Inanimate objects or not, they can still mean something to you.

So I’ll spend my time now in my large, spacious office overlooking the greenspace.  I’ll wake up with coffee in the sunroom, have dinner in my dining room.  Maybe I’ll start another business.  Regardless, it’s time to walk through the door to the next phase of life.

Happy Friday, y’all.  Make it a good one.

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