And so it starts. For years (eek!) now, I have successfully ignored the feeling that my life is pretty much going nowhere. I knew the feeling was there, with a finger in my face, “I’m not touching you! I’m not touching you!” But I decided to be ‘realistic’ and ‘patient’, to suck it up and ‘wait until I have enough money’ to travel. Well guess fucking what? Unless I win the fucking lottery tomorrow, I’m never going to have ‘enough’ money.
Shit is always popping up. Take 2009 for instance: chock-full-o-bullshit. What started out as a promising year (I met a man in January and fell instantly in love), came to a close December 31 in the hospital where my dad was recovering from cancer-removal-surgery. In between there were multiple funerals (my collection of mass cards is super depressing), an abrupt break-up and consequent damaged heart, the painful dissolution of a six-year friendship and more office drama than you can shake a stick at (what?).
What’s left of me post-2009 is someone I only sort of recognize – someone, more importantly, that I don’t much care for. I go through the motions day after day to the point that every week is a blur. Wake up go to work hate my job curse public transportation arrive home self medicate rinse and repeat. I wish my life away waiting for the weekend. It’s an ugly cycle that is begging to be broken.
Enter the girls.
It seems odd that three girls from different parts of the country should find themselves experiencing the same life crises at the same time in the same place. But here we are and all the excuses I have are bullshit now. No one to travel with? Not anymore! No money? Cleaning hotel rooms ain’t so bad with good company. No guts? These are some fiesty girls I’ve fallen in with.
There are about a million “reasons” I can still come up with not to leave, missing my family and fear of complete destitution topping the list. But the alternative of simply staying put is beginning to look so bleak that even fear and emotional attachment can’t hold me back.
I hope I have the spine to stick to what I’m saying right now. I’ve flaked out on myself so many times I can’t even remember what discipline and drive feel like. But hopefully having to face my fellow wanderers every single day will inspire the contortionist moves I need to kick my own ass into gear.
Wish me luck!
The Wanderlust Diary 