Maybe I will meet you one day. Maybe wednesday, maybe not
Truthfully I don’t know if I made the right decision. At times I feel as if I don’t have enough life experience, as if I’m missing out. When I was graduating from school, there was such a push to get out working and join the industry before you got left behind. And I had an incredible job offer that I would have been stupid to pass up, so I took it.
I haven’t moved around much, spent weeks at a time sleeping on friends’ couches bumming around. I haven’t gone backpacking through Europe or ridden a bicycle to the northern-most point in my small island nation. The longest road trip I’ve ever taken was only to the next state over, not even a day’s drive. These are the sorts of things I always assumed were more suited to liberal arts majors and now wondering if I am missing out on.
The other thing is I feel as if I still have a chance. I’m more tied down now than ever before with a job, student and car loans, responsibilities, two thousand ball pit balls and three thousand dollars worth of Swedish furniture, but I’m still only 23 and could still run away.
Maybe being laid off wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
It’s the second month of the two thousand and eighth year since the birth of Christ, I should know where I’m going already. Seriously. This is getting ridiculous.