Morning Pages

This weekend was amazing. There was no stress because the housing decision had been made; (#ladiesofmeriwether #together4ever) we had fun as a group celebrating Hannah's birthday with dressing up for pizza and brownies and ice cream; and I felt creatively satisfied because I had made the brilliant decision to spend a little money on myself and sign-up for a writing intensive with one of my all time favorite bloggers (Hannah Brencher is the girl you wish you could be IRL-friends with) The shortest three hours of my life were the ones I spent plugged into my laptop with a Taylor Swift note book in hand and LaCroix and Sour Patch Kids as fortification. I learned so much, and came away encouraged and on fire to return to this little thing I used to do called blogging. But I knew coming away from that experience that I had to find something to do that would seal the deal, locking in that precious knowledge for long term. Otherwise, those three hours on that particular Saturday would just turn into your average mountain-top, student life camp high followed by the crash of falling back into your old ways.

Enter the morning pages.

Staying at Meriwether

Sometimes the life you dream of is not the life you actually need. The key is figuring that out before it's too late.

For months now I've been making plans and doing research and getting my stuff in order -- all towards the goal of moving out on my own. I've never lived alone in my life, and I was longing for the order and the control I could have in going solo. Cohesive decorations, matching dishes, no one to blame but myself for clutter - just me. I've loved the Meriwether house - our neighborhood, the proximity to all things awesome, my little garret room (though I wish I had a closet) I just have been craving a little bit of something new, and a lot of stability. I'm trying to put roots down in order to cultivate contentedness in my career, but its kind of hard to do that when your house still feels like a dorm.

So, a month ago, I started apartment hunting, house hunting, anyplace that would give me shelter hunting. With in the first two weeks, I found a little duplex that I liked, not far away from my peoples. I applied, and was approved. I was able to relax for a week, leading up to the date that I could sign the lease, but then the morning of that day, I got a call from the realtor who had been the go-between for the owners and myself. She very apologetically told me that they had decided to give the house to someone else, right out from under me. I hadn't signed anything, and no money had changed hands, so I wasn't too mad... just a little sad. I understood that business was business, though their business was a little inconsiderate.  A little discouraged, I set to work again, but not with out a little seed of doubt. was this the right decision?