Los Angeles is all I know. I distinctly remember walking around downtown as a kid seeing all the tall skyscrapers and being at awe at the marvelous concrete jungle. The bustle of the city allured me then, but now I’m indifferent about life here.
My biggest complaint here is the high cost of living. Last I checked, I’m doing pretty well for myself, but your money goes quickly putting a roof over your head. You can save a bit by cooking more and budgeting, but there’s no escaping the costs associated here. If I could permanently work remotely, I would leave for another state or city in a heartbeat.
I feel I more or less recovered from the market crash and all my investments are in the green. I’m thankful, but seeing as how your livelihood hangs on a thread when there’s an outbreak doesn’t sit well with me. I don’t feel secure even with the nest egg I have and that shouldn’t be the case.
If everything plans out, I’ll have six figures saved up in various places ready to cash out for my house or condo. It’s the American dream. One that’s expensive, riddled with liabilities, and logically the next step in my life. It begs the question, would I do it?
I’ve been constantly thinking about this plan for a few years now and I’ve only err on the side of caution than my usual relentless optimism. Times like this I wish I wasn’t alone with just my thoughts. A second opinion helps and I’d imagine I could be quickly pushed the other way.
The path less traveled is the one walked alone and I feel I’ve only had a string of successes to push on forward. I know I could just live everyday as it comes but life comes as you fast and the better you have an idea of where you want to be, the less likely you’ll be just another ant in this world.
I don’t want to be just another person drifting. The days feel longer now that we’re on lockdown. My thoughts cascade into one another and my mood is slowly falling. I can almost hear my own heartbeat on some days. There’s a rhythm to life and right now, I’m off beat.