It’s a Tuesday. A fall Tuesday. An early October Tuesday, to be exact, which has always meant, in my Midwest eyes, that the sun is noticeably setting earlier. The time between dinner and bedtime feels increasingly constricted, but it’s not that big of a deal, really. The cooler temps equate to longer time spent in bed (at least in my book!), and besides, Halloween is around the corner, and no one wants to wait until 9 o’clock to go trick-or-treating. The Tuesday commute home is accompanied by scenes from a Family Channel MadeforTV Movie; bike rides in the park, the end of league, and the onset of evening football practice. Proud, tired parents line the streets adjacent to suburban parks, toting $5 Hot-And-Ready’s and Gatorade. And, of course, the foliage is the white elephant. Perhaps I am in the minority in that I choose to take a longer route to work purely to enjoy the beauty of the dissipating chlorophyll. It’s just the type of predictability and nostalgia that I love. Although lately all the aforementioned has been stirring up different emotions, most of which I am going to be at a loss of words to articulate.
This particular Minnesota Tuesday is far from the norm. It’s October 4th. If someone were to ask me to guess a temperature for said date in said location, I would probably respond with a hearty “somewhere in the 50s.” Dear readers, today’s high was a whopping 84 degrees. Yep. Blue skies, to boot. I know, I can’t believe it either! Plus, get this, the forecast holds for the next 5 days. It’s so bizarre. I should be at the beach and not the orchard, but moral of this post is that I’m not doing much of either lately.
I’ve been living in the lovely Minneapolis now for a month. Without going into the mundane details about the move out here and getting the Uhaul and the moving of my shit, and dealing with banks and all the bundles of joy that accompany a cross-continent move, let me just say that this particular move has been quite the whirlwind. And then there’s the whole starting a new job part, but that’s the awesome part. I love where I work. But isn’t the gushing about my job sort of post; it’s more of a “singlegirlmovestoanewcityandhasahardtimeadjusting” sort of post.
I wouldn’t say “hard time,” really. It’s just a different animal for me. Because, trust me, I have moved far. And wide. Well, perhaps not really wide, persay, because I still don’t have that much shit to haul, even in my ripe 26 years of age. But far, I have done. Alone, I have done. I think it’s because this move has felt more or less “real” to me, if you will. I am no longer a student. In fact, I have not one, but TWO degrees! In music! Which I am not using! But I’m fine with that, and that also is another post. Or maybe a previous one…seems to be a favorite topic of mine. Regardless, my safety net is gone.
I am no longer acquiring student loans, but instead am buried in debt (a product of my generation, I am!). I have a rent, utilities, insurance, curtains, an acquired taste for peas, and a strong desire to take a Tums every morning. But humor aside, this is it. I am a civilized member of society. I have a strong desire to be that tired parent carrying the Hot-And-Ready. I think to myself on a daily basis how great a place this will be to start a family. The musical community is at my fingertips. So, in my proverbial rose glasses, this city is everything I want a city to be. It seem that the only con that is preventing my pro is myself.
How does one get out there and adjust? Especially an introvert with an affinity for really awesome bands that you’ve never heard of, a talent for playing the flute, and a love for bicycles , egg white omelettes, and weird films that just won’t quit? In my younger years (ha.), I was really good at partying…I would go to random concerts alone. I would sit at cafes, and all 130 lbs of me would somehow draw out all sorts of interesting conversations and invitations from people. The somewhat wider me seems less apt at these things. Aside from constantly feeling not visually appealing enough, I find that my carefree nature of yesteryear has truly declined. I’m careful. Of relationships, of driving, of taking risks in general.
So what do I do? Can I easily revert back to that person I want to be? I must say that I have to try. Because the happiness and freedom I felt then are well worth the struggle I’m going to face on my journey there. So it is hear that I set some internal goals and sit with them for awhile. I will begin a bucket list of things to do and places to see as well, and attempt to cross one of the list a week.
…so that’s it for now. Time to accomplish some tasks at hand.
