On Moving

A Continuation of a Comment From Another Journal

Between 1993 and 2000, I was moving once a year, every year – seven times in seven years. By the seventh move, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to move again for a number of years as I had bought a house… but even that was not to be. I felt lucky that I got to live in the same place for two years between 2000 and 2002, but I knew I’d have to move yet again at some point, and now I’ve had my ninth move in ten years.

It’s a horribly draining thing to move so much. I’m thinking that I really like the place I’m in now, and I wouldn’t mind staying here for at least two years, but there is just about zero certainty in my life at the moment. My circumstances could change quite a bit at any time: my business could fail… our customers could leave us, or my partners could give up and decide to do other things. My roommate could decide to move on, and that might make things tough. I’m on a monthly rental agreement, so the landlord could decide to just boot us out with a month’s notice anyhow. And I’m sure there are a host of other things that could randomly happen that I’m not even considering.

But I’m not preoccupied by these things. I used to be, a little, but I’ve decided to just let things be and work themselves out as they’re going to. I can rise to any challenge that gets thrown my way; I’ve done it before and things have worked out well enough.

It makes me wonder a bit at what a life of certainty might be like, or if such a thing is even possible. I always think about having enough financial security to be independent and not “have” to work – at least being certain in my income. I really haven’t made a lot of money in the last five years, but I’m willing to bet I could be independently wealthy in ten or so years. I know that I only need about 40K a year to live the way I want to – I could easily get that off the interest of a million bucks…