After I got over the initial shock of moving away from my friends, out of my own apartment, and into my childhood bedroom, I found that I was perfectly content. I was content to wait. To wait for the Foreign Service. To wait for being sworn into the Bar. To wait to take the Georgia Bar. To work retail, to save money, and to wait.
Then the sudden urge to go grocery shopping hit me. It was such a simple little thing, planning my own meals, buying my own food, and cooking all my own meals. But I missed it. I missed making those decisions on my own and feeling accomplished carrying home my bags full of groceries, list tucked in my purse with all the items neatly crossed off and the amounts (rounded up to the nearest dollar) written in beside them.
It wasn't just grocery shopping I missed. I missed waking up and wandering downstairs without pants on (!!) to watch TV and eat breakfast with only the birds for company. I missed working out in the middle of the living room without anyone questioning what the heck I was doing. I missed deciding how to structure my day based on my schedule alone. For several days in a row I missed Baltimore with a particularly strong ache. I even dreamed I was back at the Inner Harbor.
At first I thought I just missed having my own space and being independent. That was a large part of the puzzle. But it wasn't the whole puzzle.
The rest of the puzzle? I'm done waiting.
Restlessness has found me. I'm ready for a job. I'm ready for my own life. I'm ready to move on. Don't get me wrong, I love my family. They've been amazingly supportive and loving. And things are good here. But it's time to try to fly again.
"Comfort is the enemy of achievement"
-Farrah Gray
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