Goodbye my little shoebox apartment. Believe it or not, I’m going to miss you.
I moved into my tiny little Central Boulder apartment knowing that it was going to be temporary. I loved the idea of living alone, but the price tag of that was not sustainable. I lived in the basement of a single family home in an older Boulder neighborhood, and while it certainly had its flaws, it was home.
I’ve never really considered myself a sentimental person, though I certainly have some possessions that have emotional value. I definitely wouldn’t consider myself a hoarder. Every few months I go through my belongings get rid of stuff I no longer need or use. There are those rare moments when I could have used that tie-dye t-shirt for a hippy themed cruiser ride, but mostly once its out of sight its out of mind. Lately, though, I have started to notice more emotion for inanimate objects. My car is one example, but this apartment is another.
It would take me at least two hands to count the number of homes I have lived in in my life, and there is always some sadness to moving on. From what I can remember, most of those moves were to cooler places or closing a chapter. I am not really sure what this move signifies, though, and maybe thats why I’m struggling with it so much.
I met my friend Darcie in one of my first few weeks living in Boulder. She is a member at the gym I was working at and I noticed her Vermont phone number. Our conversation went something like, “You’re from Vermont? I went to school there!” That statement can go a few ways, but generally it’s either met with excitement that someone understands Vermont or disdain because us out-of-staters ruin the state. Luckily for me, Darcie agreed that while Vermont is an amazing place, Colorado is that much cooler.
So, last week I moved a whole 3 blocks from my old shoebox to a three story townhouse with Darcie and her boyfriend Shane. If I didn’t move and start a new job in the same week, I think I would be more excited, but mostly I’m just overwhelmed with how much change is going on.
Goodbye little shoebox! I probably won’t miss the spiders, the basement smell, or the dogs barking upstairs, but I will miss the memories.