Predictions of a Frenemie
It’s winter and I am at Lush Food Bar for brunch.
One of the guys at our table says that he wants to move to Chicago, and I mention that I will likely move too.
That’s when one of the salty guys at our booth puts down his mimosa and says:
“Shut up about moving, Dennis. We all know you hate Minnesota, but you’re not moving anywhere. If you were going to move you would have done so already.”
Well, I guess he was wrong – The move to Dallas is happening tomorrow!
The last week has been stressful.
Between work, packing, and a busy “goodbye” social schedule – I’m exhausted.
But it was fun, I think.
A puppy at Mackenzie Pub in downtown Minneapolis.
The distillery tour at Du Nord Craft Spirits in Longfellow Minneapolis.
Paige and I in Mears Park, Lowertown, Minnesota.
Gunter, the salty Chiweenie (Chihuahua / Dachshund mix)
Mit and downtown St. Paul at the outlook.
The bottle selection at the Du Nord Distillery in Minneapolis.
The Kellogg Park Fountain and with the First Bank Building in the background.
The bartenders telling the crowd to get out at the Bedlam theater in Lowertown, St. Paul, Minnesota.
Even the most mundane things feel heavy because I realize that this is going to be the last time that I go to a particular store, park, or coffeeshop. Bar friends and baristas give me overlong goodbyes because they suspect they’ll never see me again.
I also turned 29 in great company at the Gay 90’s.
So grateful for that.
The Great Purge
The worst part about moving is being confronted with all of my possessions. I have to relive every poor purchasing decision and missed expectation.
- That shirt was going to fit someday…
- That knickknack would have been perfect for my cubicle…
- I wanted to buy extra light bulbs just in case…
- These cleaning supplies that I never used were on sale so…
And yet, I hate throwing things away – I feel like I’m being wasteful and somehow failing to live up to my expectations for that object.
I now understand how people start hoarding.
I’m only taking a single carload of things to Dallas.
No Uhaul, Pod, or Trailer.
My neighbors think I’ve lost my mind, but I believe that forcing myself to declutter my life will help me get a truly fresh start ala Graham Hill.
Besides, the vast majority of the objects that I own are from different periods of my life, and have outlived their original purpose. I’m now 29, have zero fucks to give, and ready for a fresh start.
Hopefully I don’t regret this.
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