Juncture

I have a love/hate relationship with summer. The past three have brought about lots of changes—falling somewhere in between forgettable and somewhat earth shattering. And this summer appears to be no different. 

I've been MIA from this blog yet again...but if I look back at my pattern of summer postings, I always seem to drop off somewhere in June and find my way back by fall.  Right now, my hiatus is from a combination of things. I'm working the hardest I ever have, wearing many hats and trying to learn as much as I possibly can while I'm still early on in my career. I rarely talk about my job on this blog because I like to keep this world separate, but this summer has been an important time for me at work. 

I'm also putting down roots in LA for the foreseeable future. This spring brought about the first of many quarter(ish) life crises, where each week felt like my life was about to take a complete 180. It was a constant game of stop and go. And it was, to put it simply, exhausting. Even though I couldn't plan past the next week, I didn't live a second in the moment. I wasted 6 months waiting for my life to start. I almost dropped everything to aimlessly travel the world (really). And while that's definitely still a part of the plan, it may need to wait a couple more years.

After all the stop and go, I've finally reached a juncture—the beginning of a new chapter. I'm moving...again. This time, into my own little studio on the Eastside. I'm incredibly excited and nervous at the same time. It's cute, tiny, old and has appliances from the 1950s which may or may not be up to code. It's the first time I'll be living alone and as scary as it might be, it feels like the right time to step out of my comfort zone. 

I spent most of my formative years (and who are we kidding, I'm still in my formative years...but bear with that statement for the purpose of this post) as a we—not a me. While everyone was living a normal, wonderfully reckless college existence...I was meticulously mapping out my Five-Year Plan which involved marriage, kids, and a life so drastically different from where I see those five years now, that the only thing left to do is to chuckle uncomfortably and move on.  But, even as admittedly hard and lonely and frustrating as being just me can be sometimes...this all feels right.

I'm excited to have a place that is truly my own.

So here's to a summer of good change.

...it would appear that the Weird Rut of 2015 (as it's officially named) had a purpose after all.