When I was in college, I vowed to always say yes to adventures. I tried to go along with unexpected, spur of the moment plans as much as I could because it always led to a good story and a fun, memorable experience.
So when the opportunity to interview for my dream job came up, I couldn’t say no – and I didn’t. It would require me relocating, but after four years of commuting into Manhattan for internships and work, the idea of not having to commute with the masses, deal with crowds of tourists, traffic, stress, transit delays and the list goes on and on, was pretty appealing to say the least.
Several weeks later, I’m officially a resident of the state capital and eager to start my next adventure. I’ve already started bringing some of my belongings three hours north to my new abode. I’m almost completely packed at home, the moving truck is reserved and everything is ready to go.
These changes have been a long time coming, so I couldn’t be happier or more excited that the time is finally almost here. It’s about time I move up in the world, geographically and professionally. New home, new job, new life.
It seems people are generally sympathetic when I tell them I’m leaving the city – “Oh, well, you can always come back in a year.” But the truth is, I couldn’t be more excited to leave. Ironically, I’ve found that there’s not much for me here anymore. This is the city that never sleeps, but it’s not the only city in the state. Or the world. I’ve lived here for my whole life; I’m ready for a change and something new. I’m beyond ready for a change of pace and a change of scenery. Being surrounded by nature instead of buildings, concrete, trash and tourists will be refreshing – literally. New York City will always be where I’m from, but I’m ready to call a new place home.