Member-only story
when the urgency to escape pervades my senses
I’m thinking about leaving the city again.
I’ve been here before. A year before the pandemic, I decided that I needed a change, so I moved back to Texas, which was a mixed bag. Some good came out of it for sure. Some important learnings happened. I began to understand what it means to be a homeowner and that maybe it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
As a side note: now, when I contemplate saving up to by a house in the Bay Area, I think of all of the things I’d have to deal with. The lawn and the roof and the hvac and whatever else. These thoughts immediately cure me of any desire. At least currently.
As the months passed, I really missed SF. This city, though it can feel unjustifiably expensive and sometimes unsafe frankly, still feels like home.
Maybe what I really need is to take a trip. Set out on an adventure. The last “vacation” I took was to a suburban city so I could show my face at the office for a week. I treated myself to a ‘wagyu’ cheeseburger at the hotel restaurant.
It was one of the worst burgers I have ever had. Comically bad. Their coffee was trash too.
When I wasn’t working, I was watching TV in my hotel room. I hadn’t planned the trip well.
