I live in San Francisco now. When I moved out to the Bay Area ~2 years ago I never imagined myself writing that.
Don’t get me wrong; I love SF. But the whole idea of commuting two hours to work 5 days of the week (I work in the Mountain View LinkedIn office) didn’t really appeal to me. “I’ll just go to SF on the weekends! And when I need to be in SF during the week I can just Caltrain or drive. Why live there?”
But then two of my friends moved up from South Bay to the city. And visiting them on the weekends I started realizing what I was missing out on. While it was nice to have a place to stay at over the weekend my friends’ place only seemed like a home, not my home. I started entertaining the idea more and more of living in SF. Coordinating concert departure times with the Caltrain only made the idea grow stronger.
Yet I stood firm. The longer commute times seemed to be winning over everything else.
And then life pretty much made me live in SF — almost all my friends decided to move. I was, for lack of a better term, peer pressured into moving North. I’m so happy that I did.
Living in SF is fantastic. Yes, the rent is more. But my house and the people I live with are wonderful. Yes, my commute is longer. But LinkedIn has a shuttle to and from work. And the days I drive I get to listen to music and work on improving my abysmal karaoke skills.
I think I’m happier here. There are so many good restaurants and bars here it is ridiculous. The city is, in my opinion, extremely beautiful. There is always something happening and something to do (though I’m yet to take full advantage of this). If I go out I know I have my home to go back to. I don’t have to worry about missing the last bit of a concert in order to get on the last Caltrain back to South Bay.
One of my friends once said that he is happier in SF and I didn’t understand what he meant, until now.
Here’s to many more years in San Francisco.