Moving out and moving on
First morning in my Annapolis apartment—October 31, 2020.
This is the last time I’ll sit in this chair, at this desk, typing on this keyboard.
In a few hours, my friend will be here to help me pack everything I own into a U-Haul and then a tiny storage unit. I’ll squat at his house for the next week and a half. Then I’ll get on a plane and fly to Buenos Aires.
Packing up the office.
I got sad and nostalgic for a few seconds yesterday when I was taking everything down. But it quickly turned to excitement for the next chapter.
A new question has come to mind when it comes to change: “Did I think I would die with this thing?”
When my roomy told me she was moving out, I couldn’t stay glum for long because I knew I wasn’t going to die with her as my roommate. Just two 57-year-olds drinking Bud Light seltzers and playing Uno.
I sold my dresser and bookshelf yesterday—furniture I had as a child. Did I think I was going to die with those things? No.
That means between now and the day I die, I got rid of them at some point. This is that point.
I built my career in this office. I learned how to make money, create content, and play chess in this office. Now it’s time for me to get to whatever the next level is in another office.
It’s funny. Humans are so good at turning empty boxes into homes. But I was really just borrowing this room. By next week, it’ll be filled with someone else’s life and they’ll have no idea who I was or what I did at this desk.
Anyway, it’s time to move on. My priorities for the next month are simple:
transition smoothly to Argentina
finish the first draft of Do The Thing!
post consistently on the podcast
Onward and upward!