I realized that today marks eleven years since I moved here! I showed up, sight unseen, cat in tow, with only an address from a craigslist roommate ad. I called my friend in a panic from the airport, because who the hell moves across the country for no good reason?!
It worked out pretty well. I even stayed in the craigslist house for a couple of years (although it may have given me MRSA; don’t live with dirty hippies, people).
I’m leaving this summer, but it has been a great run. The sad fact is that the family obligations I’m moving for won’t last forever, and I’ll probably come back here at some point.
So, now I have another cross-country trip ahead of me. The scariness is more front-loaded now: I know the place I’m going to, but I’m older and have a lot more *life* (and stuff, but not just stuff) to transport. I have friendships and professional ties to suspend, whereas when I came out here it was shortly after college so everyone I knew was adrift.
Have any of you made big, scary moves and lived to tell the tale?