I moved into this apartment in fall of 2014. It was a big move for me. A huge decision. I turned the key into a new life, a different one far away from my friends and family back in Alaska. It was an insane change. And for some crazy reason each time something huge happened in my life after that moment, I thought I would feel differently after I turned the key.
After my first class in grad school
After getting the grades back from my first term
After coming back after the holidays
After completing my first big task at Ooligan Press
After accepting the position of co-manager for Write to Publish 2016
After the day of Write to Publish 2016
After coming back from my first solo trip to LA for AWP representing Ooligan Press
After my very first book was published by Desert Palm Press
After successfully defending my thesis
After graduating from PSU with a masters in book publishing
After each of these huge accomplishments, I thought turning the key would be different. Feel different. Seem different. (Probably because the first time I came into my apartment it was such a radical change from my old life.) But it wasn’t different, really. I mean, yeah, I have some more feathers to pin in my hat and I was super proud of my accomplishments, but I was still the same person, living in the same apartment, doing my day-to-day. And I slowly realized that actually turning the key wasn’t the thing that made it such a life-changing event.
Moving was. Getting my own apartment was. Starting a new career path was. The turning of the key was just a simple way of calling this place—and this new life—home.
I hope you’re having a lovely Wednesday!