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Moving moving moving

Last weekend marked the start of my one month countdown. On March 20th, I am moving from my current cute little apartment to a townhouse closer to downtown Dallas. The move is causing a mixture of emotions in me (shocking, right?!) I’m excited to live in a new area. In all honesty if it wasn’t for the hassle and logistical nightmares involved with moving, I would move every year. I like living in different parts of the city, going to different grocery stores, and experiencing my city in new and different ways. At this point, I’ve lived in several different apartments here in Dallas. And even though I have loved each place for different reasons, they have always felt temporary, while my parents’ house still feels like home. A friend of mine pointed out the other day that when I refer to my apartment, I call it that. I never use the phrase that I’m “heading home” unless it means to check-in with my parents. I am hoping that this townhouse will become more of a little home for me. All this excitement aside, this will be the first time I will live alone. I’ve always had roommates. From growing up, to college, to the past four years in the working/grad school world, I’ve always lived with at least one other person. It’s not that I think myself incapable of living alone, it is more a concern of will I get lonely? Will strange noises in the middle of the night be more frightening? As busy as I am, and with my boy down the street if I get truly terrified, I am crossing my fingers the answer to both questions is ‘no’. For now, the excitement is definitely out-weighing the nerves and I’m hoping it stays that way!

Maybe I really am turning into a grown-up?! …or maybe just maybe…

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