I am moving.
And I couldn't me more excited or nervous.
On Saturday, my mom and I set out for Salt Lake armed with a list of possible places and determined to fine my new home. House number one was a charming 3 bedroom home at the end of a cul-de-sac. It had a fun and open floor plan with one of those catwalks over the kitchen. The actual building itself was perfect but that's where the good ended. While we were waiting for the landlord to show up, I asked the girl who was moving out if she had enjoyed living there and she struggled to find something positive to say. Strike one. I asked her what the other roommates were like and she described them as "intense" and suggested it may be due to cultural difference. Strike two. The final strike was the location. It was in a sketchy neighborhood. Like the kind of neighborhood that we locked the car doors as we drove through. The kind of neighborhood that makes you feel uncomfortable and on edge as you anxiously scan the area for the mugger that you know is just around the corner. We immediately crossed that house off the list.
The second house had a perfect location and is less than 5 miles from where my office will be located after it moves in the summer. We rang the doorbell and I was immediately greeted by a girl with a huge smile and as she gave us a tour, I started to see the house as a place I could actually live and be happy. Everything about it was perfect. The bedroom was big with a giant walk-in closet, the girls living there seemed awesome and they had lots of positive things to say about the singles ward. I honestly could not find anything bad about the place. They even have a piano! Huge plus right there. But unfortunately, the room was on hold for someone else who was trying to get the money together for the deposit. The landlord was holding it until the 18th and would let me know if things fell through. Bummer. So we moved on to the next place on the list.
The third one on the list was another charming house located in a cute neighborhood in Daybreak. It had lots of positives but I just couldn't see myself living there. Something about it just felt off. I still can't figure out what it was but for some reason it wasn't what I was looking for. And besides, the bedroom was tiny. A queen been would barely fit with just enough room to walk around the edge of it. The girls who lived there were awesome but something still felt off.
The last place was a townhome owned by a lawyer-turned-chef who was renting out two rooms. This place was gorgeous. High-end everything. She kept her china displayed on the table that was always set. Everything was shiny and expensive. It felt more like something off a showroom floor than an actual home. I honestly think that if I lived there I would be afraid of A. breaking something or B. not keeping things clean enough. It was a great home but just not for me.
We returned home a little discouraged that the only one that really felt right wasn't an option. So I began to search the internet for some more options and to make a new list.
I got a text Sunday evening from the landlord of house number 2 saying things weren't going to work out with the other girl and the room was mine if I wanted it...! I immediately knew that this is where I was supposed to be. I signed the lease that night and will be moving on February 1.
The more I think about it, the more I truly believe that this was meant to happen. With everything going on in my life right now, the timing of all this is almost too perfect. This is my fresh start. I can move on with my life and meet new people and make new friends. I can be anyone I want to be. People won't know my past or anything about me except the things I choose to tell them. I really believe that this is the best thing for my life right now. There's really no other way to explain the feeling I have about it or the way everything worked out. I just know it's where I'm meant to be and that Sandy is the place where the next chapter of my life is supposed to play out.
