It has been 73 days since I returned home from a four month long European adventure.
I relished the first few days back at home.
I didn’t have to rely on public transportation to get anywhere, I had a car!
I didn’t have to cook my own food, that’s what parents are for!
I didn’t have to share a room, there was a queen size bed to myself!
This excitement over the comforts of home quickly wore off.
After spending an entire semester exploring different countries, cuisines, and people, I’m hungry for something the suburbs cannot possibly provide. I really was not made for a town where the most exciting thing that happens all week is Trivia Night at Applebee’s on Wednesdays. (I’m realizing now how pop punk that sounds. *Cue “All Signs Point To Lauderdale” by A Day To Remember*)
My craving for the future causes me to be very absent in the present. My mind is constantly somewhere else; daydreaming about how I’m going to decorate my Ithaca apartment, looking up possible NYC internships, and researching life in cities all over the country. Will these cravings ever cease? Will I ever be satisfied with the present? Will I be forever waiting for “the next big thing” to happen in my life? (I promise I’m not having an existential crisis.)
This insatiable hunger combined with my inherent need to be a perfectionist eases my fear of stagnation in the future. I am confident there is no way I could possibly allow myself to be stuck in a place where all the houses look the same and I sit in a cubicle. Instead my commute to work will (hopefully) include a stop at a coffee shop that isn’t Starbucks or Dunkin’ Donuts and my office will be full of creative and innovative people that occasionally like to bring their dogs into work (I’m looking at you, Big Spaceship.) Wandering around the city and possibly getting lost on my way home is something I’m actually excited for.
Obviously there are aspects of the future that are absolutely horrifying and make me want to hide under my covers forever and ever. These crippling fears include: taxes, student loans, dealing with landlords, deciding on a career, having to actually hang up wall art/posters in frames (and not just putting them up crookedly with Command Strips), etc. Hell, I know forty-year olds that still have these fears (well, maybe not the poster thing).
The older I get the more I realize no adult truly knows whats going on.
I’m hungry for the days when I too can pretend that I actually have my shit together.