And So It Begins

I’M FREE!

If you had been walking down Yonge & Eglinton on July 31, 2008, you would’ve heard me shout that repeatedly on my way home after my last day as a corporate pleb. On the outside I was thrilled, but on the inside I felt mixed emotions. Even though I would have rather gnawed my own arm off and beat myself with it than stay at that job one day longer, I will miss the people that I have made such close connections with. I will miss the morning coffee walks, I will miss my softball team (although I really wasn’t good enough for them to miss me), I will miss the after work socials and I will miss being able to walk to work.

Maybe I needed this in order to realize that the business world is not for me. Maybe I will need this trip in order to realize that maybe it really is. I have no idea what the next few years in my life have in store and that makes me excited! There are no more plans, no more set expectations, no more guidelines on how to live your life! Does being this independent mean I am truly a grown up now? Or does that mean that I’ve actually never grown up and am still living in the mindset of an 18 year old? Either way, it doesn’t matter. The beige walls of the 3 paneled cubicle are no longer closing in around me, and I am no longer finding myself being put to sleep by the eerie buzz of my computer screen.

There is one thing, however, that I am finding the most difficult to part with. LACK OF FUNDS! That magical paycheck that appeared in my bank account every 2 weeks is no longer in existence. I find that I now have to consciously think about that extra non-fat vanilla latte, that movie that I don’t necessarily have to see and those jeans that I already have enough of.

I have officially closed one chapter in my life to start another. However, before I can do that, the reality of moving back into my childhood home still needs to settle. Being in Dundas this past weekend, and waking up on my single bed in my tiny room felt like a nightmare. There are perks however – breakfast in the mornings via mother, access to a vehicle at all times and not having to rely on the Toronto Transit System, knowing almost every single person in town and CABLE! (A luxury when you’re living in downtown Toronto).

August 10th, 2008 – my official move date back to Dundas, Ontario. I have yet to start packing. It’s amazing the amount of things you can fit in a 600 sq. foot apartment. It’s amazing the amount of things you didn’t even know you had in a 600 sq. foot apartment! Everyday a new drawer of some sort is opened to reveal something new. It’s like your birthday everyday! Except most of these things are completely useless, however, you still feel a need to hang on to them regardless of the fact that you forgot they even existed over this past year.

So freedom is just around the corner. I just have to dig my out of my apartment to get there first.

The Art of Packing, Unpacking and then Repacking Again

My thought process:

Morning: “BoooOOooo-urns, I don’t want to go to work. These last 3 days are never going to end.”

Afternoon: “YAY! I only have to do this for another 3 days!”

Early Evening: “Packing?”

Evening (while looking at the catastrophic mess in my apt): “You mean I actually have to try to move all of this back into my folks house into my tiny little single sleeper room?”

Bedtime: “I’ll start tomorrow. There really isn’t THAT much stuff, right?”

Repeat.

I love living in downtown Toronto. Everything I could ever ask for is at my fingertips. There is a constant influx of people, a never ending list of new restaurants to try, a night life that will leave you asking for more, and enough shopping to leave you broke and penniless. It’s no wonder they call it “the mini New York.” I’ve lived here for about a little over a year now and I have not even begun to indulge in everything this beautiful city has to offer. So, it doesn’t come as a surprise that I have mixed emotions about leaving it behind. I’m happy because I get to embark on a new journey (with a temporary 4 month layover at my folks house), and I’m sad because I have made so many close connections here with both the people and city. Even though I’m only moving an hour away, visiting it and living in it are two completely different things.

I think the biggest difference will be the energy. Toronto is young, vibrant and constantly moving. My home town is…well….none of those things. I’m from

Websters Falls - Dundas, Ontario

Dundas, a country town in which driving tractors instead of cars to high school was not uncommon. There are really only 2 things to do there: 1. retire (in a population of 20,000 we have around 6+ old age homes) or 2. get pregnant (we were mentioned once on David Letterman’s Top 10 for teenage pregnancy per capita. Thankfully, I managed to escape this statistic unscathed).

At least living in Dundas will give me plenty of time to unpack and then repack for my 2 week trip to Russia with my mother in September. Is packing really worth it then if all I’m going to do is repack again in another couple of weeks? Bah! I’m starting to dream about brown cardboard boxes! Not to mention that when I get back from Russia, I’m going to have to repack yet AGAIN for my transoceanic move!

What do I take? What do I leave behind? Do you think Luke will notice if I just slip another pair of shoes into that box over there? I often find that I convince myself that I will need to bring EVERYTHING I own with me. “Oooh, what is this miscellaneous item? I totally forgot I even had it. I’m bound to need it in England. ” [Puts in box] I am also finding that I get very attached to inanimate objects (sign of insanity maybe?). For example: the new tenant of my apartment has kindly offered me money for some of the furniture I own, including the air conditioner. Me talking to my air conditioner: “*cry* I’m sorry I have to leave you behind. I wish I could take you with me. *cry*”

I think I need to take the “maybe” out after “sign of insanity.”