For the last six months I’ve been in an inner monologue of wanting to move, away from sleepier Marin County across one of the bridges somewhere.
A friend of mine landed a vinyl only monthly gig in the East Bay towards the end of 2023 and after a few months in I was starting to appreciate what that gig brought me: a new group of friends and a more diverse neighborhood.
I’ve been struggling with finding my social frequency and this gig solved a piece of that puzzle. Maybe covid is to blame with the slow recovery from the isolationism but nearing 40 is probably more the reason. My social circle was shrinking. This new energy of hanging out in the East Bay was refreshing as fuck. I wanted to move there.
Once 2025 turned around I felt the dread. “Fuck this, do I want to endure another 12 months of this routine?” Not that it was terrible. Work, weightlifting, concerts with friends, family hangouts; but what about dating or feeling less likely to retire home for a Friday night?
At the end of January I ended up converting the wish into an action and pulled the trigger to find a place. I spent a week on Craigslist and Zillow looking for a spot in the East Bay only to choose SF. I toured one place on a Wednesday, submitted an application Thursday, and was approved to move in two weeks later.
Today I officially terminated my Marin apartment and tomorrow I leave for a two week Japan vacation.
To sweeten all this up, my boss gives me a promotion today.
I’m exhausted to say the least. But damn, talk about closing and opening a chapter.
graveyard shiftin 