The end of the market era

It’s a bittersweet day.  The day I gave notice on my humble little abode. The first apartment I rented by myself.

On one hand I’m excited about what lies ahead, but on the other hand I’m sad about leaving my little place.  Sure it’s tiny and I would have no problem finding another place to call home.  But what I’ve realized is so important, is that it’s located in a community.  A place where I can walk down the street and say hello to neighbours.  Wave to the shopkeepers as I pass by.  Stop and say hello to the farmers who sell me my food each week in the market.

It’s also filled with great memories.  Memories of friends stopping by for dinner.  Or a glass/bottle(s) of wine.  And coffees on the balcony.  I never had to leave the market.  I have no need to.  Restaurants, shops, cafes, art galleries.  We have it all down here. I come and go at all hours of the day and feel safe doing so.  And if forced to venture into another neighbourhood, I usually expressed my opinion about doing so.  But now however, it seems I’ve found a reason to leave and it’s almost time to pack up my stuff and move it to its new home, the storage unit.

As Carrie Bradshaw would say, “it’s the end of an era”.

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