stories from the Realm

Today I packed up more than half of my possessions and put them in a storage unit in Tribeca. Next week I will move into a cute but tiny apartment, and live out of boxes for 2 months. Over the course of the next year, I will live in 4 different places: a New York apartment, Hawaii, London, and then an NYU dorm.

I’ve had people tell me that if there’s ever any time to live a nomadic life, it’s when you’re in college — but I still can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling that this isn’t what’s best for me. I’m the kind of person who likes routine. I want to put down roots. I want to stack my books on a shelf and not have to worry about packing them up 8 months down the line.

I keep reminding myself that if I can put up with this for one more year — one more year – then the reward is that I will finally have my own place to live and my own part of the city. But that doesn’t really make the unease go away, the feeling I have that if you don’t have a place to go home to, you’re really just drifting in the wind.