For the past year, I’ve lived in a 10-person household. The four years prior, I lived in what was basically a 5/6-person post-grad frathouse. While I love all of my friends who have been my roommates over the years and the 10-person house’s beautiful, the whole situation was too much.
It’s not that we were constantly on top of each other. With nine bedrooms, six bathrooms, and wildly different schedules, the common rooms were dark and quiet most weeknights. If two people were there, however, soon half the house was there. I missed the intimacy of being able to just hang with two or three people without being interrupted or feeling like I needed to exude more energy. It’s a very frustrating situation for an extroverted intervert to navigate. But honestly, that was only the surface level of my annoyance with Hotel Multiverse, as we tried to call it.
Even with all the space available, I wasn’t being creative enough. That frustrated me. I’ve come to accept that I’m easily distracted. Any time I attempted to write in my room, I’d hear voices downstairs and wander down to investigate. As the year went on, I found myself less interested in what was going on in the living room. However, instead of returning to my room to write, I’d just watch something on Netflix to assure myself I was allowed alone time.
My main motivation for moving out of the 6-person house - commonly known as The Castle - was so that I could branch out and become more productive. When my friends found Hotel Multiverse, my stomach dropped. I should have done more to lead the charge to find a smaller home, but at the time, the recently renovated corner brownstone was too nice to pass up as all the players and pieces fell into place. Luckily, I have started to branch out into the community thanks to Baltimore in Conversation.
When the time arose to talk about renewing the lease on the Hotel, I was up front and said I wanted out. For better or for worse, nearly every other roommate was at a turning point in their 20s; it was agreed that we would disband.
This week, three of my closest friends from Hotel Multiverse and I move into a place a few blocks down I’m temporarily calling Nerd Row. It’ll be my first time living in a row home, my first time sleeping in a bedroom that isn’t huge. Those negatives aside, I’m excited. It’ll be small and quiet, despite the beagle across the hall from my room. I foresee a good balance of work and pleasure being accomplished in my new place. Having survived the age of 27, I feel confident now to become a successful writer. (I had a dream and discovered I had a fear of the 27 Club, thanks in part to one of my best friends.)
Recently, a new friend has been pushing me to write more. He believes in me. A lot of people believe in my abilities, but it’s nice to have a stranger give you the confidence you need to get back in the game. However, I can’t keep relying on him. I have to be a self-motivator. With that in mind, I’ve set up a challenge for myself.
Over the past year, I’ve jotted down half-baked ideas on my phone or in my notebook. Some have been expanded upon. None ever got as full a treatment as the show I wrote about my time in The Castle. So, for the entire month of July, I’m implimenting a writing challenge for myself. Let’s call it Pilot Season. Every day, I’ll be posting a new short story or script or essay based on one of my banked premises in an effort to show myself that I do have good ideas to write about. There’ll be some duds, obviously, but I think that’s part of the fun.
I have faith in this challenge mostly because I won’t procrastinate until the day-of to write everyday. In fact, I actually wrote this post two days ago. I even revised it. I know, look at me. It’s like I’m trying to be taken seriously or something.
I hope you enjoy my process during the next month. Remember, I’m like Tinkerbell: I need your applause to keep going or else Eustace will tell me I ain’t shit again and I’ll stop posting. Don’t worry; I’m working on that, too. Baby steps, you know? Til tomorrow, my good friends (and associates).
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