Hard to believe it’s been four months since I’ve moved out on my own. I think it’s finally sunken in that this new place is indeed my home now, and that my previous home is solidly my parents’. When I tell people I’m going home, this place I’ve been renting since November of last year is what I am referring to. It’s wonderful.
On certain days it still feels like I’m off somewhere on vacation, renting from an AirBnb. Exacerbating that feeling is the fact I’m renting from friends of the same age, so this whole thing feels like we’re traveling somewhere, away from our respective parents. How long does it take after moving out of your parents’ house for it to truly feel like you’re an adult? I don’t think I’ve reached that stage yet.
I have to say there’s great advantage to renting from a friend, though I guess you run the potential risk of a ruined friendship also displacing you from a place to sleep. That’s why I recommend renting from friends that you’ve known since high school, and which point the friendship should already be unconditionally lasting. The positive of renting from someone familiar is that the process is far smoother and less formal. The place is also friendlier.
Like I said, it’s like we’re all on vacation somewhere and renting a whole house.
The primarily reason for moving - other than finally striking it out on my own - is to be closer to work. The ability to walk to work within 10 minutes is an absolute game changer, a huge positive to my mental health. The feeling that at the end of a tiring day, I can be home in minutes rather than a slogging commute in a car is worth every penny of the rent I am paying. The difference will be even more stark once the world returns to normal, and I will have to go into the office the regular five days a week.
If I can help it, I am never going back to having a commute.
Saturday drive.