I remember exactly when I began dreaming of San Francisco. I was applying to colleges during my senior year of high school, and I would listen to various California-themed songs while convincing myself that all my problems would go away if I got out of my hometown.

When I got the opportunity go to SF after my college graduation, I thought that surely it was “fate.” I mean, I didn’t even plan this—it just fell in my lap. So I went there. Found an apartment. Was ecstatic that my high hopes about the city didn’t disappoint me.

And then I turned chicken shit. And am now staying home…just for the year… But, to give me a little credit, it wasn’t San Fran itself that held me back, but because I would’ve hated the job that I was taking. I’m still trying to decide if the move I made (or didn’t make) was extremely wise or extremely stupid.