at night i get really sad.
i don't know if it's just because i take my antidepressants at night and by the time i go to bed they've worn out of my system and my seratonin has gotten all sucked up or whatever, but i just tend to get sad when the sun goes down and i'm lying in my bed staring out the window.
this is when all of my prime thinking time happens. besides prime thinking time in the shower while i audition for the tony awards.
sad bedtime thoughts:
1. no one is ever going to want to marry me and deal with me until i'm ninety-seven
3. wow do i hate my job but if i quit that goes on my permanent employment record
4. how much would i hate it in forty years if i got a tattoo
5. why am i still living with my parents
6. is my anxiety disorder really controlling my life as much as i think it is
7. why i haven't i been to africa yet
8. why is my boyfriend two hundred miles away and not currently playing with my hair
9. why am i not playing with his hair because it's about ten times longer than mine
10. am i really going to do everything i want to do with my life
(11. i should start working out)
today i learned that there is such a thing as a quarter-life crisis. i'm feeling it pretty hard.
your twenties are supposed to be fun, but mostly they just suck gigantic ass.
last night i was particularly focusing on number eight, where i missed adam terribly and lamented that i had no idea when i would see him next.
but i was dwelling, which is a lot different than focusing, i might add, on number seven.
WHY HAVE I NOT BEEN TO AFRICA?
i've been very blessed with all of the places i've gotten to travel.
i've been to forty-three states and seven countries if you divide up the UK. all of these places were for fun or for study except for california, which was for a church mission trip, and besides the part where i got attacked by a schizophrenic homeless man that had a knife, it was really fun.
no matter how blessed i am with all of the cool places i've been and all the cool stuff i've seen, i want to see more. i want to see everything.
i want to go everywhere.
when i was studying in england, i had a free weekend, friday afternoon through monday afternoon. five friends and i took a train from london to edinburgh, scotland, and we stayed in a hostel called the caledonia backpacker's hostel. it was eight pounds a night and we stayed in a room that slept thirty-nine people. they gave us a key to a locker and a bed number and told us to enjoy our time in scotland.
i obviously spent my two days touring edinburgh, bar crawling, and having the time of my life, but just being in the hostel was a really great experience in and of itself.
i had everything i needed for the weekend in my backpack, so i felt like a backpacker. i kept all of my stuff in a small locker and the only thing i had was that locker, my backpack, and a bed number fifteen. (i think it was fifteen. i actually don't remember now.) it was kind of... freeing to have so little.
the hostel itself was amazing. there were murals all over the walls and it was a lot bigger than the outside let on. it was three stories high with multiple rooms. ours, room G, was the biggest. when i was laying on my bed writing in my journal, i heard at least four languages. right outside the window was downtown edinburgh and a bunch of pubs and the night was noisy and rowdy and real.
there was a free breakfast and i met a lot of people my age from various countries, mostly european ones. they were just backpacking around, doing whatever, staying at places cheaply, and traveling.
it was incredible.
i left scotland early to go re-visit york by myself. i took the train by myself to york and spent sunday afternoon touring york alone with my backpack. i spent a lot of time in york minster and worshipped among strangers. i tried new food and took the train back to london. i got back to my flat taking the tube alone.
i navigated two countries by myself in less than ten hours.
and it made me realise that i can do that.
i don't mind staying in hostels and meeting new people. i don't mind taking trains and figuring out where i can get dinner.
i just want to travel.
last night while i was pondering why i haven't been to africa, i began to think seriously about what i'm doing with my gap year before graduate school. that line of thinking then became... do i really want to go to graduate school?
once i pay off my student loans, i'll have about sixteen thousand dollars in savings for graduate school.
and i realised... what could sixteen thousand dollars get me other than a master's degree that's probably worthless? (it's an MFA in creative writing. like... nobody needs that. i just want it.)
i could backpack through europe with that. i could go to africa.
i could travel all over the world with sixteen thousand dollars.
of course, when i come home, i'd have to get a job, move back in with my parents, and have absolutely no money for more schooling, a car, an apartment, whatever.
i don't actually think i'd spend all sixteen thousand dollars travelling the world. i'm pretty frugal and i'd have someone help me plan my trip so it would be as cheap as possible. so maybe i'd come home with something. at least i'd come home with enough experiences to span eight lifetimes.
i told my mom about this idea today and she was very excited, but she told me that she didn't like the idea of me travelling around the world alone.
i think i might get lonely, backpacking through the swiss alps or flying to africa or something, but my god, i have to travel.
now is the time. i'm young and i have the money and i hate what i'm doing with my life right now. i hate my menial job and once i get a real one, i won't have time to travel. i won't have time to do what i want.
i want to immerse myself in other cultures and try new things and get a tattoo and write poetry from hostel beds and grow out my hair and pierce something weird and skinny dip with women i don't know halfway across the world.
god, do i want that.
so maybe i will quit my job, get a tattoo, and travel the world with my graduate school money.
i really don't think i'm going to regret it.
(plus, there's a penis museum in iceland that i'm pretty excited about.)