moving on

I moved recently.

Moving is always a big deal, even when it's only 30 minutes down the road (like my current move was).

Moving involves new surroundings and fresh starts. Sure it's not a full fresh start most of the time. But it is always a partial fresh start at the least.

But this move was a big deal for a different reason.

For the first time since college, I have a roommate that isn't my mother.



Last spring, a good friend mentioned that her lease was ending in October and she didn't want to continue living with her current roommate. She asked if I was interested.

I balked.

Truthfully, I was scared of giving up the privacy and space that comes from living alone. Sure I had lived at home with my mom for 2 years after law school ended but that was different. She was my mother. No matter what I did, she would love me.

I think that was the crux of why I was hesitant to move in with someone. My previous roommate experiences had mostly ended badly. Two went well. But the rest went sour. There were bad fits, bad influences, and bad times.

No part of me was eager for a repeat of those experiences.

But then I spent yet another day working from home and I realized something: I needed a roommate. Badly. So I texted her that I was interested.

For a while, things stayed on the back burner. Both of us were interviewing for jobs and October was a long way away. We were both unwilling to commit to a year long lease without a better idea of what our future would be.

When I came back from India & Thailand, my friend approached me: the roommate situation was a go.

She wanted to stay in the same apartment, which was totally fine with me as it's significantly nicer than my old place. I had been there a few times and always liked the space.

So I started packing. Well, first I went through yet another round of interviews followed by nervous waiting only to be told, yet again, thanks but no thanks. Then I started packing.

There were a number of bumps along the way. There was a subleaser that almost walked away, leaving me responsible for rent on both my old and new place. There was a slight panic that I wouldn't be able to afford a mover to actually move my furniture. There were bruises and banged shins, sore fingers and aching backs.

But then, after one day of hauling boxes by myself and a second day of scrubbing, I was moved in to my new apartment.

It's been close to two weeks since I moved into my new apartment.

And despite my initial worries, it's been a great decision. Sure there are more compromises. But it's worth it to live with someone, especially with someone I'm as close with as I am with my new roommate.

Sometimes, change can be just what you need.