After 25 months of full time school followed by full time work with no breaks, I was able to finally take a vacation (the last one I took being 25 months ago...backpacking in Europe) and really get away for more than just a quick weekend. I went to Boston and New York City for ten glorious days. Being that it was my first time to both of those places, I was delightfully overwhelmed with new sights and experiences. The East Coast is an extraordinary place that feels immensely different from California. I loved the exposure to the big city, the ease of public transportation, and the way life scurried by in a whir of fast-paced events, where even going to the grocery store was a well-planned feat of time, resources, and well-supported walking shoes. Growing up in a small and relatively sleepy town rendered me ill prepared for the rush of city life...and surprisingly, living the last 6 plus years in Southern California has barely changed me. I'm still unsure if I'm adaptable to the city life, but it's at least enjoyable for short amounts of time.
Getting away from the normal daily grind was inexplicably helpful to my mind and soul. I felt relaxed in ways I haven't in many months (perhaps years, even) and truly carefree and cut loose to walk as slowly as I wanted and avert my eyes to places beyond the never-ending stretch of bland sidewalk beneath my feet. I wasn't constantly on edge or getting pissed at people who cut in front of me in lines, waiting for things didn't bother me and patience was abundant. I had nowhere to be but where I wanted...
and perhaps that spoiled me.
It's an undebatable fact that the worst thing about vacations is returning back to the same life you left behind. Waking up in the morning is a labored task, getting to work is an Olympic sport, and working an 8 hour day might as well be the Iron Man Triathlon. Life drags, feels heavy, and lacks momentum altogether. The hardest part of this for me was waking up this morning and feeling the weight of a life I don't want. Creating a bit of temporary distance from my life as it stands only bred more discontent within me and now serves to point out the many nuances of my current existence that I detest.
Level ten postpartum-vacation depression has set in.
I think the hardest part is that my life is in limbo, transition, everything is a waiting game for the remainder of the year. I don't want to mentally shut down but I am having a hard time keeping my batteries charged and disappearing into the abyss of my mind sounds all too comfortable and safe. All I want is a hearty meal of comfort food, a pair of sweats, and a movie night. I don't want to deal with anything and I especially don't want to face the bleak realities of my mundane life. Sorry to be a Debbie Downer...I am just struggling to overcome re-entering my own atmosphere.
New York, I miss you...what I wouldn't give to spend one more night tucked safely away in your buxom bosom of other-worldly excitement and your colorful kaleidescope-esque tapestry of culture and life.
Get me out of Orange County. Please.