Boxed Up & Burned Out

As I sit here surrounded by half-packed boxes and piles of belongings I didn’t even realize I owned, I can’t help but reflect on how utterly draining the past few weeks have been. Fresh out of college, diploma in hand, I should be riding high on the excitement of starting my new job in a brand new city. Instead, I find myself wondering if it’s physically possible to feel this bone-tired.

Moving, as it turns out, is a special kind of exhaustion. It’s not just the physical toll of lifting boxes and furniture (though trust me, my arms are questioning every life choice that led to this point). No, it’s a mental and emotional marathon that I was woefully unprepared for.

First, there’s the endless decision-making. Keep or toss? Pack or donate? How many kitchen gadgets does one person actually need? Each choice feels monumental when you’re staring down the barrel of a complete life transition. And let’s not even get started on the bureaucratic nightmare of address changes, utility setups, and the Kafka-esque experience that is dealing with landlords.

Then there’s the emotional weight. Saying goodbye to the familiar nooks and crannies of my college town, the friends who became family, the favorite study spots and late-night diners – it’s like leaving a part of myself behind. Each farewell adds another stone to the backpack of exhaustion I’m lugging around.

The anticipation of the new job doesn’t help either. Instead of excitement, I find myself lying awake at night, mind racing with worst-case scenarios and imposter syndrome demons. What if I’m not ready? What if the city eats me alive? The constant low-level anxiety is like a battery drain on my already depleted energy reserves.

And can we talk about the sheer physical toll? I’ve discovered muscles I didn’t know existed, all of them screaming in protest. My sleep schedule is a mess, my diet consists of whatever I can scrounge from the depths of an nearly-empty fridge, and I’m pretty sure I’ve forgotten what a proper self-care routine looks like.

Yet, underneath all the exhaustion, there’s a tiny spark of excitement trying to break through. It’s buried deep under moving boxes and to-do lists, but it’s there. A new adventure, a chance to reinvent myself, to build a life from scratch – it’s terrifying, yes, but also thrilling.

For now, though, I’m giving myself permission to be tired. To acknowledge that this transition is hard, that it’s okay to feel overwhelmed. I’m learning that adulthood isn’t about having it all figured out, but about taking it one box, one day, at a time.

So here’s to new beginnings, to the chaos of change, and to hopefully finding my second wind soon. But first, I think I need a nap.