I can’t decide if I like the new status quo that is my life. It’s all very Zach Braff- dramedy of me, but I’m feeling the growing pains of the 20-something. I love my new job, don’t get me wrong. It’s the first permanent GD job where I’m not getting the shaft, and actually having a lot of fun.
But… yeah. There’s this annoying habit I have of fearing any kind of monotony or routine. I’m sure I will have to be dragged kicking and screaming into any kind of white-picket existence, and the day I define an interesting conversation as one centered around marble countertops, discount furniture stores or curtain textures is the day I hope I get eaten alive.
I want to be responsible, I do. I want to make money, and be happy doing it. I want to own things, and have my own place to call home. I want to get better at what I’m good at doing, and be successful with it.
I just struggle to balance what I should do with what I want to do. I have to help myself from not scowling at anyone who talks about going overseas, as if they’re doing it on purpose to taunt me. And it’s worth mentioning the foul mood I work myself into everytime I watch a foreign film/film set overseas, or read a book set elsewhere, see some killer overseas airfare, eat ethnic food, hear an accent, or read the other languages on the back of the shampoo bottle. You see where I’m going with this.
I consistently wonder if there’s another life somewhere else I should be leading. I yield a lot of questions of why I came back to Missouri, and I’ve yet to come up with a satisfying answer for them. What if I hadn’t come back after NZ? If I had continued on to someplace elsewhere? If I had left all my crap behind and just taken off for some flipping trek thru the Himalayas and ended up in Greece or someplace mindblowing.
It’s the struggle anyone like me will always have: settle or drift. To commit or not to. Be content or be satisfied. Responsibility or risk. Make parents happy, make myself happy. Work or play.
