The hours leading up to my eviction I spent shoving every item I owned into cardboard boxes, cursing as the sheer amount of crap seemed to multiply. Funny thing, how small everything looks when it's squared away in cupboards and shelves. The boxes didn't hide it though; I have an insane amount of things.
Packing became a pleasant memory as I started hauling the boxes down the three flights of stairs to the car. I don't even have the right to complain about hauling either. My dear "Captain" (who decided he gets to drive?)/boyfriend took all the heavy loads.
The moment I considered arson was when we began packing everything into the storage unit. I'm pretty sure it counts as a fire hazard at this point anyway.
The funny thing is that I don't actually have a lot of stuff, comparatively at least. I know for a fact that most people have a lot more unnecessary things. For my own sanity, however, it is far too much. (Side Note: the fact that my profession requires so much equipment doesn't help matters at all.) The idea of a minimalist lifestyle had always appealed to me, but I had gotten caught up in society/family expectations/etc. Whatever you want to call it, I had allowed myself to be scared into the white picket fence, 2.5 kids outline. Not to say that I won't ever have a house with a stupid white picket fence, or that I won't have children, but I had been scared into that cliched outline for life.
Let's back up a few months to late April. I was working insane hours (60ish hours a week. Not the worst I've done by far, but it had been quite a long stretch of this) in a bridal shop on University Ave. in Provo. I loved my work, selling and altering wedding dresses, but the exhaustion was getting to me. It got to me so much that I couldn't stop getting sick and eventually picked up mono, at which point I went on sick leave and got fired. Yay!
I had quite a lot in savings, which kept me going for the next few months of perpetual illness. During this time David boyfriend thing had already moved out of his apartment and started living in his car/my house. A month or two later David also quit/got fired (no one knows exactly what happened there...)
As my money ran out and the end date of my contract rapidly approached, I started panicking. I needed a job, an apartment, a college plan, a 401k, etc. I got sick again. This time I ended up in the hospital. I was released and landed a call center job for the fall. Still no money for an apartment.
This brings us to the two days before I had be out. I panicked, I ignored my problems, and I panicked some more. I also packed. Suddenly I was moving out, cleaning like a mad woman, packing my entire life into a storage unit and a four door geo metro loving dubbed "Lassie".
BAM! I felt free as a bird. No college plans, no rent bill, no expectations, and a job I haven't started training for. The fear I had amassed melted away once the rug was pulled out from under me. The plan was always do something crazy, backpack across Europe, live out of a car, start my own business, SOMETHING. Sometime around the middle of March I had gotten so scared of how everyone around me would react to the uncertainty in my life, that I began being scared of it myself. My life situation then forced me to take the leap of faith I was too scared to take myself and everything has reoriented.
So I'm going to sleep in a tiny car and get rid of as many of my possessions as possible. I'm going to do something more interesting.
