“Party beach house!”
That was how I described the apartment idea before I had one.
TRX had agreed to help with housing in Newport Beach. I had accepted the job in April, and now the practical part was catching up. I needed somewhere to sleep when I was working with the team in California.
Amanda and I had looked at places during the trip. My photo roll has the whole decision compressed into one afternoon: a TRX whiteboard covered in channels and organization notes, a staged apartment with a folding bed demonstration, another living room beside the pool, closets, bathrooms, and a balcony full of Southern California sun.
Two days later I sent a text: “Rented that apartment.”
Then: “Newport pool party.”
The paperwork kept going over the weekend. The application was approved, but the original move-in date was later than I wanted. I asked whether the apartment could be ready sooner and finished the note with the only date that mattered: “I will take the apartment on whatever date it is earliest available!”
The answer was July 17.
This was not a clean move from one home to another. New York was still home with Amanda and Eva. The Newport apartment was a working base for a job that needed time with the team on the West Coast. Flights, two sets of ordinary apartment stuff, and a lot of calendar math were going to become part of the routine.
Apply did not disappear because I joined TRX. The same stretch had concept documents for new sticker packs, production notes, museum-store product catalogs, and the automated marketing report landing every day. I was adding a full-time executive role and a California commute without making the side company magically stop.
The apartment made the transition physical. The TRX visit in April had been interviews, questions, and a possible offer. The signed offer made the job real on paper.
The apartment meant I was actually going.