So, I signed a year-lease on an apartment today, an apartment that is frankly much nicer than I need or need to be paying for, but I think it will be a good home base, and good for the mooshies (all those surfaces to climb and leap from!). I'd be lying to say I didn't have the sense that I was decisively signing away a number of other life prospects involving endless travel and being a gypsy, or that visions of what the rent I will be paying at this place (steeper than Boise standards, but what you can get here for that amount would be unthinkable in the Bay Area, by a lot) could have funded in terms of travel didn’t pummel my head, but my decision had clearly already been made—signing a lease just made it feel awfully official.
Amy, I think I moved into The Villages, Austin style. The place has a pool, a fitness center, tanning beds (uck), a business center, and resident-oriented events such as happy hours and pizza parties. Basically it seems like a tidy little biosphere where one could safely sequester oneself without having to mingle amongst them or ever put one's finger on the pulse of the reality of this city or its distinct character, and yes, problems. To the end of avoiding this, I intend to be hyper-vigilant, which will be a challenge in its own right, as I tend to bunker down for sure.
In summation: while a nagging part of me suspects that perhaps I have sold my over-privileged soul, the mooshies and I now have a (ridiculously opulent, I will post pictures when I have the internet capacity to) home base, and now mommy needs to get a job. Hopefully I can generate a source of income that allows me the flexibility to embark on some of the other adventures I hope to. Hopefully I'm not paving the way to fall into the same ruts. Hopefully I can manage to balance this single parent act with the fearless life of exploration and intrigue that I covet.
Hopefully, hopefully, this isn’t all a terrible mistake.
Stay tuned!
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