It occurred to me the other day that I have written my last check to my landlord. By the time my lease is up, I’ll have stayed in this place for two years, which is longer than I’ve lived anywhere since my parents’ house.
I really thought that I would be staying in that apartment until either I bought myself some property or moved out of town all together. I went through a whole room-by-room furniture planning process. I got as far as outfitting my dining room/office. I bought a real couch.
But, you know, meh. Things change. I wasn’t expecting to stay in the Twin Cities for 8 years (off and on). I certainly wasn’t planning to spend the rest of my life here. Which could very well happen. Couldn’t say for 100% certain, but I’d be okay with that.
I’m pulling up these roots that I thought I had planted, but yet I have deeper roots than I thought I did. Funny how that works, eh?





