I love Denver. I love it more than I love any place I’ve ever visited and, while it might not be my forever home, I’m really happy I made the crazy decision to pick up my life and move here 3 years ago.
Now, I’m moving again. But this time it’s not across the country, it’s across Colfax Avenue and you would think that this would be child’s play for me now. I mean, the last time I moved it included me, my dad, a 1970s truck and my sedated cat spending a memorable night at a Kansas motel called Not the Hilton (true story). My dad is a saint, by the way.
But it’s not easier. In fact, I’m freaking out. This time I’m moving from my slightly slum-lordy, ”charming in its own way if you like holes in walls” basement apartment to a beautiful vintage place above a cake shop. I am excited and it’s going to be such a positive change for me. No more neighbors stealing my Christmas presents (a real thing that happened) no more drunken people filing out of the bar across the street and having loud philosophical discussions right outside my window at 2am. Peace. Quiet. Natural light. It’s going to be glorious, but I’m having hard time with the transition.
I can’t stop thinking that my current place is the apartment where my friends came for a fateful visit that ended with a broken window, a red-eye flight back to Chicago and a missing person’s report (another true story for another day). This is the apartment where I spent my first Christmas away from my family, eating Chinese food and scrapbooking and not feeling as sad as I thought I would feel. These walls have seen me at my happiest and my most inconsolable. I love this place, but I know it’s time to move on.
So, I’m packing up. The cat loves it, all the boxes everywhere. (I, however, do not.) I am stressed, frantically comparing moving company Groupons on my lunch and making lists of IKEA furniture I might buy. There are floor plans sketched on Post-It notes and to-lists piling up in my purse. There are never enough hours in the day to get it all done.
But, I’m grateful. I’m grateful for the 3 years that my little basement nest gave me and I’m excited to start making memories in a place where you don’t need a camera flash at high noon.
I can’t wait to see what the view looks like above ground.