I posted a peek on Instagram the other day to some “big announcement”. I never meant to leave everyone hanging as long as I did. Unfortunately, the more I thought about my post, the more I realized this is more than just a 100-character Insta Story post where I attempt to fit words on a screen that sound coherent and intentional.

I’m writing to you today from my new “home”.

In a very quick turn of events, it was expressed to me that my landlord was going to sell my house. This has now happened at 4 of the 5 places I’ve lived in since I moved to Pensacola.

This time, however, was the first I felt like I had *my* home in place. Located in beautiful East Hill, Pensacola, close to everything I ever needed and within walking distance of tacos dreams are made of. I had a cozy home with furniture from my family home. I had an office. A functional kitchen. A garage (full of crap, but a garage nonetheless). A huge backyard for the dogs to enjoy. A front yard landscaped by my best friend that when I turned down my street and saw it in front of me, I always had a sigh of relief and feeling of being truly home – something I had been lacking once we sold my family home back in Massachusetts. I loved living there.

So you can imagine the feeling when I was told the house was sold…2 days after it went on the market.

I was looking for a new place in my neighborhood, but anyone from our area knows it’s slim pickings: if you wait too long, you’ve missed it, and the price point isn’t ideal – you may as well buy.

My heart has never been a home-buyers heart. I love traveling – weird, but I love having only my essentials with me on the road. I’ve dreamed of living the travel lifestyle, shooting around the country, taking my dogs with me everywhere, and exploring. Slowly, it became clear to me that my nomadic tendencies were hindering my attempts to find a new rental property.

Enter Winnie.

After selling the house, Mom took the time to live in this baby for about a year, down in Florida, spending her days at Pensacola Beach or traveling down to my grandmother’s near Sarasota. It had been the running joke that I’d have a place to stay for a few days if I couldn’t find a new rental right away. It was supposed to be a joke.

I apparently took it as a challenge. 1 week before move out, I had a reservation and a storage unit. I purged half of my belongings, packed my essentials, and stored the rest. That was almost 3 weeks ago.

I’m starting to get the hang of the crazy… that includes 2-18 month-50lb dogs, a “home-based” business that relies on hefty amounts of wifi bandwidth, and the occasional “wtf” moment when the power goes out or the engine doesn’t start, but I feel pretty confident in my nomadic-lifestyle now and I’m so excited for what comes next.

At this time, I’ll continue to be primarily Pensacola/Gulf Coast based. My responsibilities with the Pensacola Young Professionals and the amazing work their doing in the community while I enter the second half of my presidency with them will be keeping me pretty local until my term ends. After that, I’m excited for the opportunity to take to the road and travel to shoots and weddings throughout the country appeasing my nomadic heart.

This week, I’m on the north side of Pensacola. Tomorrow, I’m back at the beach. I’m not sure it gets much better than that.

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