Today I'm breaking my self-imposed rules, and I'm not answering any #JuneQuestions. Instead, I'm actually going to blog about the stuff that's actually happening in my life!
I've been in the middle of moving house - from my little two-bedroom apartment in the Inner-South, to a much bigger house in the Inner North. So, tonight is my final night in the place that has been my home for a little more than four years now.
Four years - that's the longest I've lived in the one place since moving out of my childhood home, half a lifetime ago.
It's a strange feeling - bittersweet even. I fell in love with the space when I first moved in, with its courtyard view of birch trees, and stylish architraves in the living room. I had high hopes for this apartment, and the lifestyle that it might afford me, being cycling distance from work, in a popular and exciting suburb. I've been a minimalist at heart for many years now, and it was definitely spacious for one - yet once one became two, it definitely became crowded.
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| In the beginning - 16 June 2018 |
It's also where I spent both COVID lockdowns in 2020 and 2021 (plus the unofficial Omicron lockdown of January 2022), and where my west-facing windows were pulverised by the notorious hailstorm of January 2020. I am no longer in love with this space.
So, when a recent opportunity arose to move, I decided to jump at the chance for a change. I'm looking forward to having more space and, importantly, having dedicated me-space. I'm looking forward to having a yard, and the opportunity to cultivate and grow a new garden. I'm also looking forward to being less financially stressed, and alleviating personal tensions that have been growing for some time now.
But still, I walk around this apartment this evening, and I wonder about the lives that might have been - in the Andrew Multiverse - had circumstances been different. I am sad that it hasn't worked out, and it does feel a bit like a breakup of sorts. I just hope it brings some joy to the next people.
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