Most of it has to do with losing my job and the ridiculousness that comes with finding a new one. I keep a job search diary and when I look at all the companies to which I have applied and all the people to whom I’ve written I shake my head in disbelief. The anxiety is all about whether I’ll ever work again as a marketing communications professional (as I have for the last twenty-five-plus years), saving for retirement, and most importantly where the hell I am going to get the money to simply live. And by simply live I mean live simply because I generally don’t require a lot. The anxiety is present every night when I go to bed and picks up right where it left off when the sun comes up.

With the exception of my job searching woes, I have realized that there is one recurring event in my life that tops the anxiety chart. Moving. Since graduating college I have moved ten times and all but one of those moves was riddled with anxiety (the exception involved shuffling belongings across the apartment complex hall to a place with a better view.). When I look back I think I can pinpoint the cause. Uncertainty. Usually when people move they are filled with excitement. It’s a new chapter in their lives, a new adventure. I envy those people. I have always seemed to greet it with uncertainty. How long am I going to live here? What if I don’t like it? What if I have to break the lease? What if I lose my job? And the list goes on.

I bring this up because I’m about to move again. Since returning to Massachusetts I have been living with family. Don’t get me wrong, I’m eternally grateful that I had someplace to rest my head at night but it was only supposed to be a two-, maybe a three-month visit. It’s now coming up on three years. To say I’ve put my life on hold is an understatement. I’m basically paralyzed when it comes to any money-based decision-making. But a new job has given me the opportunity to chart a new course and find a new place to live. But all the uncertainty questions are roaring back along with a couple new ones. Does it make sense to rent an apartment when a mortgage wouldn’t be much more? Should I sign a lease knowing I may not want to stay in this area? And on, and on, and on.

As a single guy I shouldn’t have a care in the world. I’m responsible for nobody but myself. And a move should be exciting. I can stay or I can go. I have no wife or girlfriend so I don’t have to worry about someone else’s commute. I have no kids so I don’t need to worry about schools. Heck, I don’t even have a dog so I don’t have to worry about living near some green space. I’m single, and as selfish as it sounds, I don’t have to worry about anyone but me. So starting right now I’m changing my attitude. I’m going to find a new place to live and I’m not going to worry about the where and the what until there is actually something to worry about. I’m going to turn moving into moving on. I’m going to turn a new lease into a new lease to live. Please forward my mail.