I moved to Berlin in June 2016. But it was only this past weekend that I felt like I live here and not just enjoying an extended vacation.
For the first 6 months I was here I was living in a furnished rental, which was lovely but it wasn’t conducive to getting really comfortable. Almost every day something “new” happened. I was struggling with the basics of the language (even though English is very common) I was a long term tourist. Even my job was a constant stream of “What? This can’t be right.”
Right before I went to Boston for the holidays I moved into my own apartment in a new, cosier neighborhood. I got my own bed, my own dishes. I didn’t have to worry about what the cats were on. I changed teams at work to take on something new.
Last weekend I was sick. Really sick. (It was just a cold but I am a huge baby) On Saturday while I was laying around whimpering about my head cold, I went into my kitchen and made some tea and a snack. And that was it. I was home. I lived here. In Berlin. And I was going to be here for awhile. And it was great. I felt something shift, something ease. Most days I still learn something new, but I have a routine. I can communicate in the most basic of ways about daily tasks. I’m excited about having a long term plan at work.
My next thought was “Oh Scheisse, I need to work on my German more”