I like this little basement room of mine. The spiders have dissipated (or I’ve gotten used to them) and it feels very private. Probably one of the most private rooms I’ve ever had, considering I’ve lived in not one, but two hallways in the past year or so (shout-out to Square House and the Clam Shack).
It’s cheap, maybe a little damp, but has laundry and a rickety ping pong table. It hasn’t actually flooded into my room as of yet. The one light in my room (surprisingly) is exceedingly bright. I have a $20 rolling clothing rack I bought to hang my “nice” things on and two desks I got for free off of craigslist. I’m going to miss this place when I move out. I almost don’t want to now, though I know I’ll be excited in a new place for a lot of reasons.
Part of the reason I’m getting so attached to this bachelor pad is I know upgrading to a new place is officially opening a new chapter in my life. One that’s older, and more mature than the one I’m living now. Over the last year I’ve noticed a change in myself. I want to get schwasted less. I want to stay in and go to bed aroun 10pm more. My FOMO symptoms are waning. I’ve been investing more time and energy into truly understanding the things I like to do (business, art, snowboarding, web), and actually making plans to take advantage of the opportunities and experience I’ve gathered over the years. I just realized while brushing my teeth that I could do ANYTHING this summer. I could work a seasonal job serving tourists up in Alaska to build up a travel budget for the winter so I can write better stories. I can partner again with Smartwool, and begin building relationships with Patagonia, North Face and more- companies that are truly in line with my well-rounded perspective on the outdoor industry.
Leaving my job at High Cascade is the best thing that could have occurred for me, and I’m so grateful that I had this shift.
Me, Myself & Old Irene 