Maybe the SPF 50 will help?
I'm home.
Well... how do you define "home" anyway? I feel like I've outgrown this place, and even the house I grew up in no longer says much about who I am these days. For one, I have got to get rid of the orange and purple bedroom.
I've changed so much, it's a little bit ridiculous. Instead of pasta, my quick meals look more like eggs and vegetables. Instead of laboring at the thought of running, I'm regularly killing my 2mi loop at a 7 min/mi pace. Rather than floundering for a social life, time spent reading or otherwise alone is relished. And the job? Erm... that looks relatively the same. I was hired back at the rock gym the other day.
So what's the problem? Well, there's no problem per se, all of my basic needs are being met and my family is here for me. I guess there's just a weird little resistance to coming back, and I'm having trouble putting my finger on what it is. At first, it sounded great to come back, take things a little easier and not have to worry so much about my finances. But while my bank account will look relatively the same as it did in Boulder, there's something... almost lurking... in the back of my mind, not allowing me peace with my decision.
To be sure, I will make the most out of summer camp. I have very much missed all those kids and running around like a lunatic with them. I suppose a large part of the summer though will be spent attempting to pinpoint this elusive dissatisfaction in being here. I wish I knew what it was, because it's getting annoying to not be able to answer, "Isn't it good to be home?" without being wishy-washy. In many ways it is good, but there's something that's... not right. And that's all I know.
What I will definitely enjoy, no matter what, is reacquainting myself with the ocean. I can't wait to sit for hours, watching and listening to the waves, writing pages upon pages of whatever's going through my head, and trying to avoid a sunburn. Thankfully, SPF 50+ was invented.
Well... how do you define "home" anyway? I feel like I've outgrown this place, and even the house I grew up in no longer says much about who I am these days. For one, I have got to get rid of the orange and purple bedroom.
I've changed so much, it's a little bit ridiculous. Instead of pasta, my quick meals look more like eggs and vegetables. Instead of laboring at the thought of running, I'm regularly killing my 2mi loop at a 7 min/mi pace. Rather than floundering for a social life, time spent reading or otherwise alone is relished. And the job? Erm... that looks relatively the same. I was hired back at the rock gym the other day.
So what's the problem? Well, there's no problem per se, all of my basic needs are being met and my family is here for me. I guess there's just a weird little resistance to coming back, and I'm having trouble putting my finger on what it is. At first, it sounded great to come back, take things a little easier and not have to worry so much about my finances. But while my bank account will look relatively the same as it did in Boulder, there's something... almost lurking... in the back of my mind, not allowing me peace with my decision.
To be sure, I will make the most out of summer camp. I have very much missed all those kids and running around like a lunatic with them. I suppose a large part of the summer though will be spent attempting to pinpoint this elusive dissatisfaction in being here. I wish I knew what it was, because it's getting annoying to not be able to answer, "Isn't it good to be home?" without being wishy-washy. In many ways it is good, but there's something that's... not right. And that's all I know.
What I will definitely enjoy, no matter what, is reacquainting myself with the ocean. I can't wait to sit for hours, watching and listening to the waves, writing pages upon pages of whatever's going through my head, and trying to avoid a sunburn. Thankfully, SPF 50+ was invented.
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