The Whim That Stuck
Well, I did it.
I bought a house. In Quincy, California.
It has a creaky entry, a roof that looks like it’s held together with good intentions, and a view that will inspire absolutely no one.
I’m not moving there just yet—give me a few weeks to pack up my old life—but the deal is done. No turning back.
New city. New life. New chapter. Cue the dramatic music.
Was this a carefully planned decision?
Absolutely not. It was a whim. A nudge from the universe. A whisper that said, Why not?**
And now here I am, trying to organize my entire existence on a three-week timeline. Plotting a future in a neighborhood I’ve only driven through once. Wondering if this house is a Rorschach test I’m supposed to live inside.
WTF am I doing?
Honestly? I have no idea.
But I’m doing it anyway.