Can’t Believe I’m Living In…
Sometimes it hits me at the strangest times.
Like last week as I drove back from the grocery store.
I just crossed the intersection of Bienville Street and Galvez Street and caught a very brief glimpse of the skyline through a clearing in the trees.
“I’m living in New Orleans.”
I honestly said it out loud as The Weeknd’s “Low Life” played on the radio.
It’s not the first time — and definitely not the last — that those words left my mouth.
I said the same thing at some time about every other location I’ve lived since I started my communications/journalism career nine years ago.
Lebanon, New Hampshire? Can’t remember when, but probably.
Bar Harbor, Maine? Yup. When I sat on the side of Cadillac Mountain after a hike.
San Marcos, Texas? You bet. Hanging out on my ex-girlfriend’s porch in Austin, of all places. I remarked how wild it was to be living in Texas.
Athens, Georgia? For sure. Walking around UGA’s campus.
New Orleans, Louisiana? See above.
My career and pursuit of whatever else is out there for me has taken me places I never thought I’d live. If you asked me right after I graduated if I thought I’d ever be living in New Orleans by the time I was 30, I’d laugh.
Life is all about the road, not the destination.