Because 2023 was a drama queen, even the leaving didn’t go smoothly. I had broken my rental lease and was on the hook to find a tenant. I was sure it would let immediately, however I soon realized why my landlady barely ran a credit check on me a 18 months prior. Though the studio was darling, not everyone loves a tiny home like I do, and I think she had trouble renting it. I came along and immediately fell in love with the space. I didn’t mind the smaller refrigerator, the microwave that doubled as a convection oven (which actually worked quite well), and the 200 sq. ft of coziness. All the less to accumulate my dear.
So when I broke the lease, I thought hey no bigs, I’ll stay in an airbnb a few weeks, post craigslist ads with the hard sell and cute photos. Before you know it, someone will have signed the new lease. I had already vacated the studio, so easy peasy.
Lolz, said the universe.
I stayed in an airbnb and for the first week all I did was nap during the day and sleep deeply at night. I was exhausted. I was exhausted from breaking down camp, exhausted from shitty sleeping patterns due to loud neighbors and exhausted from grief in general.
After two weeks furiously reposting craigslist ads, with tepid interest at best, I realized the airbnb option was going to get expensive real quick. My friend graciously let me stay in her spare room until something happened. She had offered up her space when I had crash landed in the city 18 months prior, a very generous soul.
My life was truly liminal at that point. I was posting Craigslist ads, finishing up a work project, stuck at the house without a car, the weather sucked. Even writing this and remembering makes me depressed. All I wanted to do was just to buy my one-way ticket and leave, to run away from the nightmare my life had become. I wanted to shed the grief that had consumed my mind, body and soul for nearly a year. This grief felt darker and more potent than I had ever experienced and I was scared.
I still was massively under-functioning, when I had a come-to-jesus-moment. Hell, I could post craigslist ads from a different country what the hell am I doing hanging out here? After all, my landlady was conducting the showings, not me.
Two hours later I had booked a one way ticket to Madrid, and a train ticket to Pamplona.
Let the shitshow being.