I think being young is both the best thing and the hardest thing. On one hand, you’re just starting to discover things for yourself, and you’re not old enough to know better. You can still go out and party and not deal with hellish hangovers, just a very empty wallet and horribly embarrassing pictures (aka my 23rd birthday last week…YIKES). The world is your oyster – I’ve hopefully got plenty more ahead of me, thanks to my non-committed approach to everything really. Did anyone ever expect this from the planner slash neurotic me?
Speaking of birthdays, I just turned “Michael Jordan” as my students say. Kike turned 29 a few days after. I started thinking of where he is at 29 (career, no kids, still single, still living like he was 18, minus the living at home part) and where I always thought I’d be at 29 (career that went a bit flat once I got married at 26 and had a kid at 28). YIKES. I got scared. I love being young and not having a whole lot to do but sit in Jewel parking lots with friends because there isn’t anything better to do in Wheaton. My mom got all third-degree when she picked me up from the airport about what I was really doing in Spain a second year. Maybe it is because of Kike. I do like my job, but I’m not going to do it forever. I’m not making ANY money, so that’s surely not keeping me in Sevilla. I think I’m growing up and realizing that things are changing and I’m just going along with it.
You know how I know I’m grown up? That I feel so little attachment to this place anymore. I lived in Iowa City for four years and always liked coming home. I say I’m a Chicagoan, despite living the other half of my life in Michigan and Rockford. But I’ve found that all I want to do in two weeks is leave quietly – no fanfare, no parties, no tears. I just want to be gone. I think Spain is allowing me to still be irresponsible enough to let my parents float me money, take needless vacations every other weekend, go out for beers on Tuesday just because and take a nap every day. Hey, in all fairness, everything shuts down and it can get pretty hot. My birthday didn’t need to really happen, as its expectations fell really short…I’ve been more than fine staying home a lot this summer and studying or working two jobs 12 hours every other day. My restlessness is setting in. Three months in this place went by quick, but it seemed forever, too.
Thank god I will be in Barajas airport on Tuesday, September 9th at 11 am, eating my tostada al estilo antequera and drinking a cafe con leche.