Up until now, this whole idea of moving 800 miles from Chicago to NYC had been just an abstraction. But today I finally began packing, and what had been a tastefully-furnished Lincoln Park apartment a couple hours ago is now beginning to resemble the closing scene of Raiders of the Lost Ark:
With that, the reality of this major life change is finally sinking in; until today there had been a sense that I could still change my mind about the whole thing. Now, it feels like there’s no turning back. I really hope I’m not doing something incredibly stupid.
Most of my stuff isn’t coming to NYC with me just yet. It will be put into storage here in Chicago over the next few days, and then next weekend I’ll load my Jeep with only the bare essentials I’ll need while at Columbia for the summer (computer, clothing, studio supplies, cat, etc.) and hit the road. I have a secure parking spot for the Jeep reserved near a PATH station in Newark, and I’ll take my chances bringing my cat into the dorm at Columbia.
Once I get permanent housing in NYC — which will require me getting a job and a few paychecks under my belt — I’ll need to fly back to Chicago, load my shit into a Penske truck, and make yet another I-80 pilgrimage.