I planned on stopping this blog once I felt at home in my new city-dwelling & improvising life. Instead, I just stopped talking. Apologies.
The truth is, my new life so far has felt like a hazing process for new Chicago residents. I’ve discovered things left in my apartment that would make you cringe. I’ve chased after buses and trains. I’ve crammed myself on already-packed buses and trains. I’ve waited in piercing wind and drenching rain for buses and trains. (See a trend, here?) I’ve cursed Chicago landlords. I’ve celebrated when my apartment’s heating turned on and cursed it when it wasn’t hot enough. I’ve arranged utilities, argued with my internet & cable provider, and forgotten an appointment with the gas company.
At work the past two months have been a series of successes and failures. I’ve hit roadblocks for certain, but have yet to fall completely on my ass. …So I guess there’s that.
Within all of this, I’ve been doing what I purposefully moved downtown to do. I spend at least three nights a week at a theater of one kind or another, either learning by doing or learning by watching. I laugh a lot and have had the pleasure of befriending some truly lovely human beings. I’m in no way settled into my new life, but I’m starting to feel more comfortable.
Occasionally it hits me that I actually did the thing I set-out to do. Returning to Chicago, my goal was to work and live downtown – with less business travel and more personal time – so I can pursue my new artsy goals. And holy crap you guys, I actually did it. The moments I realize this feel so fulfilling and confidence boosting. I hope I can enjoy them more once I’ve adjusted to the logistics of my new life.
For now though, I’m off to brave rush hour in the third largest city in America.
Wish me luck.
My Ride Home
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