I’m currently in the process of quitting my job, packing up my room, and temporarily uprooting my life (a process which is certainly having it’s ups and downs, something I am trying/am not quite ready/don’t know how to write about yet).
While sorting through my drawers, I came across an old notebook with a note to myself dated May 2017. Old-me must have known I’d need a pick me up.
I know what I want to do now. I want to do something that isn’t what I don’t want to do.
Which is settling down straight away
Which is getting stuck in a career because I accidentally did.
I want to itch my itchy feet and take the plunge my parents did – except I had the taste for it from birth and I’m not ready to give it up yet1. Even if the UK does have Yorkshire puddings.
I want to see the world. Write. Explore – with a purpose.
1words of a third-culture kid.