Journal
Moving On
5/21/2010
Rochester, NY
I am sitting at the desk that I’ve occupied for the past 16 months. It is familiar, yet strange. Around me the walls are bare. No more pictures and paintings; just nail holes. My hands smell of yellow rubber gloves. I just cleaned my shower and the remaining dirty dishes.
Tomorrow is moving day. I’m heading out from the shoebox studio I’ve lived in. This place has been a mix of freedom, roots and punishment. Having my own place again was a lot of fun. Being near Rochester’s Park Ave. area had a lot of fringe benefits. I could walk to restaurants and bars. In terms of my friends, I was the last one still living close to this area. That meant I was the parking spot or launching point for festivals and going out. It was also a tempting lure when I’d get a late night call/text to meet people out and about. More times than not I would use poor judgment and head out for a painful next morning. Yet, many times those nights out would lead to new fun.
The roots part of me still goes back and forth. It’s been nice to know where I’d be calling home for a stretch of time, but having a lease is still a weird thing for me. It forces me to be somewhere. Granted, I’ve been…
Sidebar noise: It’s Friday night and my neighbor from across the hall’s entourage has begun to file in for pre-game. They are high energy.
So a lease has “tied me down,” even though I’ve been on a month to month for the past eight months. I could have moved at anytime, but the punishment part of things was in play.
What I mean by that is I didn’t want to get too comfortable. This place has served its purpose, but coming from where I come from, it is not where I would have ever expected to be at this stage in my life. It’s a studio, not a mansion. I can touch my bed, couch and desk by taking one step. My neighbors smoke. I can hear them. They can hear me (not like the Office Space dude, but still).
I’ve wanted to leave here for many months, but I wouldn’t let myself. Not until my book moved forward. This place forced me to focus. If I was living it up, I may have concentrated more on socializing than on finalizing. So if I am writing about moving, that means I focused and finalized.
The proof of my book will arrive on Monday. This is the copy they send you to look at it before you give them the green light to start the presses. This means we are close. Very close.
Sidebar noise: I can hear yelling from a drinking game or video game, like someone just ended a game of beer pong with an amazing shot.
So tomorrow a new chapter begins. I upgrade and move into my own house. It’s small, but it’s mine. Keep in mind, I have not bought anything. It’s a rental, but it’s my own place. My own house.
This studio will always have a fond place in my heart. It’s where the book went to print. There are a lot of memories of this place and the things I’ve experienced while living here. But now it’s time. There are new chapters to come. And I am excited at what is ahead.
Time to pack up the desk and watch Lost, just in case the DVR messes up during the transition.