almost home

These last few weeks have really been a testament to how I've been living my life for the past year, the past few years, the whole of my twenties actually.

I stayed in 6 different apartments in the past month (including 3 in the past week), slept in 6 different beds including one in a baby's room, and carried my suitcase in and out of the office so many times my coworkers are very confused. They keep thinking I'm going on a trip, I keep explaining I'm only going from one guest-room to the other. At least it's an upgrade from the couch.

And when I think about it, this is exactly how I've lived my life throughout my twenties. In eight years, I lived in 11 apartments in 3 countries, had 5 different jobs, 2 "serious" relationships (and 2 shitty breakups). So basically the only thing that defines me for sure is that I am all over the place. Literally. And for the longest time, that's just the way I liked it. I like the idea of being that free. Of never knowing where I might end up.

But lately, I've been craving a home.

And by home, I don't mean my father's house, where I shared a bedroom with my little sister no longer than 3 months ago. There comes a point in your life where you feel the need to have your own space. My own home, one that I pay with my hard-working earned money, with furniture that I own and most importantly: a bed that's mine. Adulthood, I guess you call it.

I'm almost there. The past ten days were hell; it was all paperwork, loans, checks, contracts, agents, electricity and water, credit cards, appliances. All words I was pretty unfamiliar with until now. I went to see an apartment and I forgot to check if it had a built-in wardrobe or a bathroom cabinet or even AC for that matter. I just liked it because it was bigger than everything else I saw.

I had a brief moment of anger when the agent told me "you're married, yes?" like he just looking for confirmation and when I said I wasn't, he said he needed to take it up with the landlord because he doesn't usually "accept" unmarried women. A brief moment of anger.

Then I had many, many moments of anxiety, signing on all these forms and all these checks. Still anxious right now just thinking about it. And I felt completely overwhelmed at Ikea for four hours, and all I did was buy a bed-frame and a mattress. But then I had a moment of pride pushing that huge cart around all by myself. All by myself! Not in a tragic, "all by myself" Bridget Jones moment on the couch with a brush (although I foresee myself having that moment quite often in the next year...). More like I'm doing it all by myself like a big girl and despite the anger, anxieties and overwhelming everything, mostly I'm left with pride and excitement. Because I'm almost there. Just a few more days, and I'll be home.