Moving to Boston

The past two months have been a whirlwind.

(Card art via Black Ink)

After Iceland, the reality of my big move really set in: a new job, a two-hour commute in and out of Boston every day and living at home for a month.

My New Hampshire license plates were replaced; my driver’s license – and, in the spirit of being dramatic, it started to feel like I was losing my sense of self. It’s hard not to when you’re sitting in the middle of the past and waiting for the future; leaving a whole life behind.

Starting a new job in a new place feels like that a bit. Every day is met with first impressions; of stripping your initial shyness to present your worth to new people, to be interesting; to make friends; to prove that you were indeed meant to be there. Maybe it causes you to overanalyze yourself; what you say and do.

I feel like this little farm (so-to-speak) girl that’s been plopped in the middle of a busy city intersection, honking cars and train tracks, business people everywhere. And yet, being in a new place brings out different parts of who you are; things are more acceptable in one place than the other.

In a new job, you may be awkward in that you stutter every time you try to ask a question, or chopped lettuce falls from the bread of your sandwich all over the floor as you smile at your coworker who is walking by (like I really needed to grab that last sandwich in the lunchroom leftover from a catered event), and you never come off as the person you want to be, but someone else weirder and uncertain.

Every day is met with new challenges that test your pride, your knowledge, your emotions. There is so much to learn, and you may question if you are smart enough; good enough; were you ready for this? Your normal routine is unobtainable, and it takes time to figure out a new one; a better one.

I’ve learned a lot about myself in thinking so much about how other people are perceiving me, how I handle myself, how all my life has led up to what I’m doing right now and how I’m overcoming the transition.

There are also moments of comfort. These moments are coming to light more recently. There is excitement in the unknown; the joy of learning; fascination; small pings of belonging; the opportunities, the upgrades, the broader connection to the world; new friends and places to go.

I’m trying really hard to learn about the world of business and management. I’m not nearly as intelligent as I know I can be; a critical thinker and eloquent speaker as the people I work with inspire me to (does that even make sense?). I read a lot of hbr.org articles to better understand the news, the trends, the terms. And I just started editing some blog posts which I’m really excited about. You can see my name here.

And last Saturday, I finally moved into my new apartment in Boston.

^ Blake in his crate on the way to Boston.

On a cozy street , into a welcoming abode with deep brown, glossy wooden floors, a brick wall hallway and a sunny, open kitchen.

It was cold when I moved in. The apartment was messy with cardboard boxes and excess kitchen-ware. I was surprised at how much stuff I had; how much fit into my little studio in Keene.

Leanne is my new roommate, a Vermont native with a cat named Gus. She listens to podcasts and works to put together an annual music festival; she grinds coffee beans and rides a bike everywhere so she’s pretty high on the level of what a cool person can be. On our first night, we walked around the corner past vintage shops and artist studios to Lulu’s in Allston where we got beers and talked music and politics and where I indulged in a Badass Burger (topped with braised short ribs, fried egg, beer cheese soup and chili cheese fries to die for).

My two-hour commute has come to an end. Work is right around the corner; I hope to start walking next week.

There are young people everywhere; endless places to eat; you can pretty much walk everywhere or take the bus or train; cool shops, and street art, and fun drinks, and Blake always has lots to look at out our living room window.

On Tuesday, it was the first warm day of Spring. After work, Leanne and I took a walk along the Charles River and by Harvard Square. She sat down with me later and showed me the T lines and where the bus stops are and where they go.

On Wednesday, I made my meal first homemade meal in the apartment; stuffed peppers (post to come). Meanwhile, Leanne prepared vegetables and rice in her trusty rice cooker. We drank red wine over dinner and she promised to help me work on the design on the blog!

On Thursday, I went out with coworkers (my age; there are many). Don’t you worry, I’ll be covering all the places we drink and eat at.

And this morning, we ventured to Harvard Square. There were so many nifty shops including a little paper store we went in to to peruse handmade cards. We ate lunch at Felipe’s Taqueria for burritos, which was a cute and cozy spot with a nice bar, outdoor seating and a rooftop patio; and then J.P Licks for some homemade ice cream. We walked through the Harvard campus which was gorgeous, and then by the water. There were people out sunbathing in their suits, laying in hammocks and having picnics.


Anyways, my first week in Boston was overwhelming and relaxing.

I’m completely out of my comfort zone, trying to make it comfortable.
 

One response to “ Moving to Boston

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