Or, not so much “we” as “me”, which is what’s so exciting. I’ve moved. I’ve moved into my own place for the first time in a long time. It is ridiculously tiny, but it is entirely mine. It’s in a neighborhood that is near my church & makes my work commute easier, which is also good. It’s one of those San Francisco housing stories that is the stuff of legend. My roommate says she’s moving out, the landlady (who is certifiably insane) says she’s moving up, so I say, then I’m moving out. I look for 2 weeks, look at 2 places, find this one that is perfect & $250 a month LESS than what I’m paying now, and I move in. Crazy, I know, but great.
Since the move, there has been measurable lift in my mood & energy levels. I want to do stuff outside work. I’m eating better. I’m more productive at work. I’m happier. Yes, I’m still going to the therpist, because, well, it’s 8 free sessions, and I feel this surge in seratonin is temporary. But I’m grateful for it.