Day No. 550


It’s not day one, but it feels like the beginning. It’s been three weeks and I’m still in disbelief that I actually have my own place. My own kitchen, bathroom, and yes, finally, my own office. The strangest part is that somehow, I feel like I have more hours in my day. It’s almost as if the solitude has slowed down every second to be as though it was 10 minutes. I’m not sure what it is, but I’m not complaining.

This is day one of me sitting at my desk (donated to by my generous and lovable brother in law), and finally, I feel like I’m in business. There’s a transformation taking place right now and I like it.

I’m drinking water out of my “Write Vibes” mug, and people watching outside my gigantic window with my desk situated right next to it as I always imagined it would be. The best part though, I don’t think anyone can see me from here. The ledge is just the perfect foot stool, and I’ve reclined my chair to just the right 135 degree angle.

Did I mention the music? Music has a way of motivating me better than any inspirational quote has. Ironically, I was just listening to Pretty Lights’ ‘Finally Moving’ when I thought to myself, how is it I haven’t started writing about this? The music prompted me like it always does. In just three weeks, so much has been accomplished. In fact, this is the first time I’ve realized, I kicked June’s ass.

Not only did I score an amazing apartment, but I MOVED. In all the years I can remember, I cannot remember moving. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not my first time living elsewhere. I spent good pockets of my twenties living all over the place, in anything from sheds to vans, countless hostels and even couchsurfing, and each of those experiences had a role in shaping who I am today.

I definitely didn’t win the lottery, though it feels like I have. I simply made the choice to invest in myself. I asked myself, what do I really want? And I finally listened to the same damn answer I’ve been giving myself for the past 10 years. And that is simply, a place to create.

To be fair, some of the best writers probably work out of coffee shops, libraries, or their own kitchens. And while I’ve given it my best effort from my incredibly supportive parents’ dining room, as I enter my second year of business and 30th year of life, I feel like I owe myself this. I’m investing in my ability to grow this business, while living a life where I can only be accountable to me.

It’s not day one, but Kareen Writes is just getting started.

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