Tomorrow we move my dresser, filled with clothing and housewares, from New York to Maryland. I’m terrified. I know it’s goofy to be scared of moving a dresser, but it’s a big step. I feel like it makes it even more real than just signing the lease.
I think it’s more real because my clothes are gone. Obviously not all of my clothes, but a good amount of my winter and fall clothing is packed up in a space bag, in one of the dresser drawers. It’s a weird concept, that so much of my life is going down to Maryland a month before I do. There are tons of empty frames on my walls, and I’m living out of a large tote. But I think this will be better than having so few clothes in August that I can barely function. I’ll (of course) be bringing things down with me then, but a lot of this stuff wouldn’t be able to fit in my carry on, or would run a higher risk of being ruined (art).
It’s also difficult because we’re working with such limited space. The boy had to move and condense a lot of his stuff so I would be able to bring in my dresser, and though I feel bad, I appreciate it more than anything. If I had to buy a new, interim dresser, that would be another $30 spent on something I already had. I’ve cut down on spending a lot lately, and it’s difficult, but worth it for not living here anymore.
I’m scared. I’m scared that I’ll not make it, that I’ll regain weight I’ve lost, that I won’t be able to write much while I’m there, and that I’ll lose contact with my friends and family at home. It’s a huge step, and one of the things a friend told me was that, “[I’ll] never feel ready. [I’ve] just got to go out and do it.” It’s terrifying that it’s common knowledge that you won’t feel ready for a big move. But I can’t let that fear hold me back.
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