How Much Does It Cost To Feel Like Your Life Is A Good One ?

I’m sitting on the Soto chair in the living room, the chair Alexis fought to the death to earn us at the Joybird Scratch and Dent warehouse sale. Woody is laying on the rug, chewing his bone like a sweet little prince. Alexis is on the couch, anchoring our triangle, practicing her acoustic guitar. She has an app that takes her through basic chord progressions. Tonight, it sounds like she is learning the song high schoolers graduate to. She insists it’s some classical bit but I know it’s actually by Vitamin C.

You might remember a few months back when I was deciding whether or not to go big on a new loft space or play it safe. I elected to take the middle ground and get something bigger than what we had but not the vaulted ceiling airport hangar dream space I spent no less than two weeks touring every single day.

When I was seven years old my mom took me to Toys R Us for some holiday shopping. A dirty move considering we were shopping for other people. I laid my eyes on a Batman action figure and I wanted it so badly. I picked it up, turned it around, did a few moves with it in a Batman voice, and set it back down. I told myself I’d take the day to think about it, it was going to be my allowance after all.

We left the store without Batman and I thought about him every day for at least a month. I thought I was being responsible what instead of being proud I felt Regret.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about Unit 315 and wishing I had been a little braver, taken a little bigger risk. It was triggered by some renters we had the other day. Big vitamin company down from LA. I was proud to show them our loft – the kitchenette, the faux brick wall, tan leather couch, and assortment of plants. They walked in and spread out, like hunters, and toured the space. I saw in their eyes they were unimpressed. You think we can make this work? I mean, yeah, this is kinda what you get with San Diego. I smiled, as I murdered all of them in my head.

This is kinda what you get with San Diego.

I won’t deny that San Diego is VERY mild from an arts and culture perspective. And fashion. And edgy people. But at least I don’t have to deal with that kind of attitude every day.

And now I’m determined to create a space so stunning and artful that it drives a freight train sized middle finger straight up LA’s ass.

And it just so happened that this morning I was informed Unit 315 hadn’t been rented after all. That it was available and I could tour it tomorrow afternoon.

I’ve been compiling farmhouse kitchen inspo on Pinterest and dusting off the financial spreadsheet in excel. I don’t need another Batman repeat.

My fear is being on the hook for an $8k/month rent. That’s what stopped me the first time and that’s what gets in my head still, if I go down that road. I tend to reason everything out and attack my own thoughts from every conceivable angle until I’m either too exhausted to move forward or absolutely positive I cannot fail. But then I was driving home with Alexis and we were watching people through the windows at their jobs moving about until their shifts were over and knowing they would go home and eat something quick, probably something they picked up on the way, get in an hour or so on Netflix, and then fall asleep in order to wake up and do it all over again.

“Is this really all we’re here for?” She asked. “I mean, seriously. This is what we’re supposed to be doing?”

It’s hard to say why we’re here. I wanted to think of something meaningful and definitive to put her at ease. But the truth is, money is driving most of our decisions. And it’s not decisions on how to get what we really want – because that would be asking too much – but more so how to get by without drowning.

“I’m just thinking about the things I do that I actually want to tell people about,” I finally responded.

Lately, I’ve been telling all my friends about the book I’m writing. Walking through the plot, asking them questions about the story. Wondering if it’ll be good. If they’ll read it. Prying into Alexis’s brain after she reads fifty pages. And I get that drip in my veins. The sense of life inside me swirling around. Which might be called inspiration, but I think it’s more the soul recognizing the body’s actions and giving an acknowledgment, so we know to keep moving in that direction. Follow me.

Unit 315 is another thing I’ve been talking about a lot. Texting pictures to those same friends, telling them we have to go fucking big or else what’s the point. And that might be what we’re here for, because in those moments I’m not actually asking that big question.

Still, $8000/month for rent is no joke.

Spread the word!