two weeks notice

Hello all! Well, here we are at the brink of a big step for Windy City Pretty – I finally move to Chicago, and in TWO WEEKS. Yes, in two weeks time, I will be Chicago’s newest little Texas transplant. As touched on previously, I am nervous, in both a good and bad way. Living back at home with my lovely parents for nearly a year somehow makes four (relatively) independent college years go out the window, and I have this creeping, irrational fear that I’ve forgotten how to write checks and feed myself. Secretly, well, obviously not so secretly anymore, I have loved living with my parents again – I will miss them perhaps more than when I went off to college. But such things are always bittersweet. And let me just hit it home – I am so excited for this next chapter.

But, in anticipation of big life changes I have more of a tendency than most to procrastinate. Sure, I consider myself responsible, accomplished, and mature, but I have a bad track record of living like this:

There are a lot of emotions going with this move, and naturally, I have fallen into three of my predictable ‘panic modes’.

 1. Bake all the things. It’s straight up embarrassing the variety of baked sweet goods and assorted chocolates/candies we have in our house. Our kitchen could currently double as a pâtisserie. 

This is probably more realistic, actually.

I’m talking, more than a typical six-year-old’s Halloween and Easter candy haul combined. For three adult people. It’s an easy formula: eat them, get a stomachache, pass off the sweets onto friends and family, beating them into diabetic submission with my love and happiness.

2.    2.  Window shop for actually stupid things online (no, Jenny, you can’t pull off lime green jeggings), have your credit card numbers memorized. Yes, this is a bad thing. Good thing? I kind of resemble an adult here, because now I don’t spend as much as I used to in college (read: cheap F21 clothes, booze, parking tickets). I’ve saved a lot living at home with very generous parents (who do this awesome thing and like, have new groceries every week.), and all I really spend my own money on is gas and the rare indulgence. Oh, and my credit card bill and student loan. I even filed my taxes today. Big girl steps, right?

3.    3. Start making important to-do lists, get distracted, stare off into a corner of my bedroom, think of something funny, laugh really loud, fade into silence, dumbly smile as eyes glaze over, curl up under a blanket, cat nap. And repeat. But this time, make lists of best places to eat in Chicago and cute, whimsical apartment décor that I can never afford.

Or a list of steps necessary to making this my bedroom. Looks pretty easy.

All hope is not lost, though. I put in my two weeks notice, finally have an apartment (with a Chicago-native for a roommate to boot) and I've registered for my classes. All I have left are a few other logistical things and the big one…packing. And how is that progressing? See number 3, above.

Thankfully, all I need for my room is a bed, dresser, and bookshelf. The rest of the townhouse is furnished, and as I've been sorting through looking at my stuff, all I basically own is books and clothes. Which pretty much sums me up, right? Surely I don't need more than that :). 

I'm still not sure if more than five people I personally know are reading this, but if anyone out there has tips on packing and making a big move, I will gladly hear them.

Until next time...