What's Next?

I meant to do this post earlier today, but god, I forgot how exhausting moving was. Yesterday was a whirlwind of exhaustion, lugging my life from my apartment into the moving truck and then from said moving truck into my house. Right now everything is piled up in the living room and my bedroom and honestly, I'm really stressed about it. My bed is still in pieces, my mattress is just laying on my floor buried beneath a heap of pillows, sheets, clothes, and anything else that I could toss onto it while I began tearing my room apart.

The only thing I've accomplished is cleaning out my desk that was full of sh!t from literally 2005. I have it semi-set up, which really says a lot about me. I'm not even working or in school and I still find the need to make sure that my work space is organized neatly and set up to my standards. Well, it's not quite there yet but I think that once my whole space is finally clean, tidy and current, all will be well.


Understandably, the question I got asked the most when I was leaving Cleveland was "what's next?" I never really knew how to answer that question. I mean, the immediate future was packing up my life, saying goodbye to my friends, followed by moving back home for the summer. Over the summer, I'm babysitting and just trying to relax for once in my life. I'll probably eat too much, hopefully start running again. Maybe I'll actually bake a thing or two. The summer is my oyster, I guess.

Most of the time, I knew they meant what am I doing with the rest of my life. Actually, a few people literally asked me that in all seriousness and I was taken aback. I'm only 21, am I meant to know what I'm doing for the next sixty years (knock on wood)? I didn't really know how to answer that question at all, so I pretty much just laughed and said the rest of my life was a long time, but I plan on moving to New York in September.

That answer usually brought on a lot of raised eyebrows, as if I didn't know what I was getting myself into. I mean, it's impossible to truly know what I'm standing up against. I've never lived in New York, only visited, but I know that's where I want to be and where I belong. I know that it's going to be expensive and hard and everything in between, but that doesn't mean that I don't want it any less.

My temporary answer to the question "what's next?" is unpacking. All I want to do in unpack, reorganize, and sleep. Seriously, I just want to sleep and drink Tim Hortons coffee and order my double-double iced coffees from Dunkin Donuts without getting a disgusting sugary mess because apparently that's not a nationally known way to order a drink. I plan on watching Harry Styles on James Corden this week and not putting on makeup unless entirely necessary.

What's next after all of that? Well, I don't know yet, but I guess I'll pass that bridge when it comes.