I was moving into a new apartment in a strange, new city. I only knew one person in Seattle, my now ex-roommate (though definitely not ex-friend) Sarah, and I was scared silly but crazy excited about the year ahead of me.
Now, 12 months, 2 leases, 2 internships, hundreds of cups of coffee, and countless raindrops, tears, and laughs later, I'm as terrified and thrilled as ever about the path ahead of me.
Things are different, to be sure. This time last year I had no idea who my friends would be here, or how I'd get around the city, or even where I'd buy groceries, but I had an internship to go to every day and a guaranteed (albeit tiny) paycheck to count on at the end of every week.
Now, as I embark on the daunting journey that is the life of a freelance teaching artist/actor/director/badass, those questions of friends and traffic and groceries are less daunting. I have my crew, I don't need the GPS most days, and I even have a favorite check-out guy at the Queen Anne Trader Joe's. What requires my trust and prayer now are those bigger questions of how exactly I'll get by month to month. Where will work come from? Am I always going to have to scrape pennies together to pay my rent? Am I going to burn out on juggling so many jobs that I won't have energy left to actually enjoy the thing I'm working so hard to practice? It's definitely a scary and difficult place to be in right now, but somehow I know It's exactly right for me in this time and place... and someday all the growing pains will pay off.
I've always joked that I won't be a grown up until I start sleeping in something other than a twin bed. How fitting, then, that today of all days I should trade in my exactly one-year-old Ikea twin bed for a full mattress and boxspring, left behind for me by a generous friend who had to leave Seattle a few weeks ago.
Hi, Adulthood, I'm Sarah. Nice to meet you.