I was excited to be in a proper bed (after sleeping on a mattress in a tiny frozen loft for a year). I was excited about real coffee in my cup in the mornings. I was excited about all the cheese I could consume without restriction. I was happy (and still am) about being able to spend time with my family every week and be a part of their day to day lives.
But like all things in life, the excitement starts to wear off and the new becomes not so new and soon you are grumbling over having to go grocery shopping and paying for lame-o parking tickets.
So my mind rebels and starts to wander from here to Arizona, to California, to Spain, to Portugal, to Morrocco, to Bulgaria, to Turkey, to Greece, to Iran, to Chile... my mind could see myself in all those places and more. And those thoughts make me start researching those countries, and then I have to admit to myself that I want to go abroad again.
Luckily or unluckily, my partner is not one to be persuaded to this suitcase lifestyle, so while it can be frustrating, he does tend to keep me grounded. He is the kind of person that could happily never leave the house if he didn't need to. I sometimes compare us to a zen garden, where he is that peaceful, heavy stone right in the middle and I'm the sand being pushed all around.
Anyways, for now, I'm not going anywhere. But it feels good to think about it. And to say it "out loud" here on this outdated blog. If anything changes, I'll be sure to let you know, blogger.
Until then, good night.
