I think I’ll continue the monthly update in this fashion for 6 months. At that point, I may wrap up each month by its name rather than by how long I’ve lived in Charlottesville. To see my one month post, click here.
This month, I (and sometimes Daniel):
- updated my license and registration. It was surprisingly easy – I got it done in one afternoon!
- actually started calling people my friends, to their faces
- hung out on several occasions with some wonderful people
- started ballet classes
- unpacked and organized (almost) everything
- made 4 curtains
- bought a new mouse; we named her Chantico after the Aztec goddess of “fires in the family hearth.” Yes, we are beginning to realize we are pet rodent hoarders.
- finished the layout and design of the dining room and craft room
- hung up all of our artwork
- made a connection with a local vintage shop owner
- sold lots of great vintage on etsy and eBay
- joined the church choir and learned how to chant the Psalms
- ate at a delicious local pastry restaurant (3 times so far!)
- bought a delightful vintage tea towel
- “celebrated” my 24th birthday
- received a twin lens reflex camera, boots, a candle, various Bakelite pieces, and more cat coins from the Isle of Man (there’s one for every year of my life)
- ate at Red Lobster with my grandparents’ gift card (thanks, guys)
- visited Waynesboro and Staunton
- got significantly better at making lattes
- took and edited photos for my workplace’s website
This month went by incredibly quickly. I’m in disbelief that it’s October already. Things have begun to take on a consistent rhythm, which is nice and makes here feel more like home. I was struck with a small existential crisis last week, however, lamenting over the fact that being an adult is often harder than it is easy, often more annoying than it is enjoyable. There are, of course, many enjoyable moments that take place throughout each day, especially working as a barista and coming in contact with so many sorts of people. But I feel like the last several years have consisted largely of missing my childhood, of envying youth and ignorance. I’m glad to be able to think critically, be aware, and join in the conversation, but it’s mentally taxing and emotionally draining. There is so much to know, to take in, to come to terms with, to change – and we either have to do something about it or waste away. It’s a burden we have to bear if we plan on being responsible, useful adults.