I was on a boat coming back from a dive off the coast of Belize in December. All awash in a post-dive euphoria it occurred to me that I hadn't felt that elated in ages. The elation quickly waned as a sense of dread sunk in- I was going back to New York soon-back to noise and filth and crowded subway cars. This was a new sensation; I used to have that "oh crap, vacation is over type sadness" but not this heavy-hearted sensation. I used to love the feeling of coming home on the BQE, feeling home. Now coming home, I felt a gloom sinking in and it wouldn't go away.
So what did I do? The only sensible thing- I torpedoed the life I've had for 12 years. I quit my job, rented out my apartment, and bought some plane tickets. Do I have a grand plan...no. Am I usually a planner...yes. This is the first time in 17 years that I don't have a job. I'm scared and excited and open to figuring out how to get more out of life.
I will miss my apartment, my neighborhood and my friends. But I'm ready for the adventure that I'm about to embark upon. I'm truly hopeful for the first time in a long time.
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