I did it, y’all. I’m officially moved out of my old apartment—which, while large and light-filled, was not the place for me—and into my cozy little studio in Brooklyn. I’m beyond exhausted, my brain is fried, and I still can’t find the bag with my good sweatpants, but we’re finally here. My name is on the mailbox and the buzzer sheet, and my first mortg…
Don't Forget Your Pocket Fork
On how to move without losing your sanity.
