I was walking back from the grocery store this morning, with a cart full of fresh veggies, herbs to plant in the pots on my balcony, a rotisserie chicken for lunch, and some of my favorite foods, when I reflected on the pure joy in the experience and the lack of any feelings of guilt.
I don't think my ex-husband liked living downtown. I think he initially agreed to it because I showed him how financially it could make sense (rent may be higher but there are cost savings to being right downtown) and then shortly after we moved here, his office moved from the suburbs to downtown within short walking distance of our apartment.
I know he hated the noise. I suspect he worried about his car being parked next to others in a full parking ramp. And with every mitigation move we made (moving to interior top floor apartments, installing blackout curtains, parking on the top level, etc.), I worried he would finally say "enough" and push to move to the suburbs. So there was this underlying guilt mixed in with my joy of being downtown.
But with him gone, the guilt is gone. I get to just live in the middle of all this life. I get to walk and scooter far more than I drive - I actually only get in my car for fun stuff like a vacation, a day trip or to go visit a friend in the suburbs.
And as I think about what's next for my career, moving into an investigator role or switching to the private sector if I sadly lose my job, I dream of what it would be like to live in an even bigger city with good transit where maybe I could ditch the car completely. That's a dream I never dared to dream before.
No comments:
Post a Comment