Bad news: your blogger is dead. She was off on the adventure of her life and she came home, got in line and started working, watching the bills slide in and out and she uses her turn signal instead of her horn. Dead. Say goodbye.
Ok, I’m not dead and it could be much, much worse. I’ve been taking a hiatus from blogging because no one wants to hear how depressed I am about the fact that I have a life and I need to live it now. It has been a tough transition and strangely, all the problems that I left behind are still here waiting for me. No one could have predicted that, running away from things always works. I am the one person who didn’t get away with that one, right?
Even though I took six months to not think about it, I still don’t know what to do with my life. My career path is clouded. What I’m working for is uncertain. I can’t cook curry and therefor I NEVER EAT CURRY ANYMORE. My life blows.
There are two things that keep me going.
The first one was some Aussie lady’s words that I will never forget. I met this woman in Nepal, she was volunteering for the program I was part of and I met her when I was kicking around the idea of extending my trip, spreading my funding out and coming home with next to nothing in exchange for double the adventure that I had originally planned. This woman was about 50 and she had clearly lived her life well, you could hear the spunk and spice in every word that came out of her mouth. In fact, she was a little too strong for the sweet little nepali women she was working with. She called herself “Momma” since she was considerably older than all the other volunteers and because she freely doled out advice. When it came to me, she met me after my time in India and I was sad to think that I would need to go home before I knew it. I was quiet and depressed and Momma knew. I told her that I was depressed to think about going home, that I wanted to stay longer and she made the single most compelling argument for me to stay. I told her that I want to travel, but I don’t want the transition to be too difficult when I return home. I don’t want to be without money, a job and a plan. She said “When I was your age, I traveled the world and when I got home I had 40 dollars and was pregnant. I was fine.” You see? It could be worse. I’ll be fine too.
Another thing that’s keeping me afloat-as I deal with Mondays, policy changes and clock watching- is knowing that I chose this and it happened as I expected. It’s easy for me to feel that I have no choices and I have no control. I start thinking that I am destined for a mundane life. I think that there is something wrong with me for not wanting marriage and children YESTERDAY like so many of my new coworkers I think that it’s too late to change who am and where I am going. I still fall into this pattern of thought, but I tell myself “listen asshole! Nothing is done! You made a choice. You decided to change things. You decided to travel to give it all up for a bit and you did it. If that’s what you want again, it’s what you’ll get because you CHOOSE YOUR PATH.” And that is how I know that I’m a different person now. Now, as I sit at a desk mull over my own uncertainty, it is with the thought in my mind that I am where I am for as long as I want. I’ll move when I’m ready and it will be fine.
Also, I have at least 50 dollars and no, I’m NOT.