I miss being an international traveler on a shoe-string budget deep in the thick of it, every moment heavy with novelty. This identity shift rubs at me, like a stiff clothing tag, an itch scratched by looking up AirBNB rooms and flights to exotic locales. There's also that unfulfilled adventure of my snail home stuck in the mud.
This week+ has been characterized by clarity of boundaries. Of my personal rules, mostly agreed upon by others, being asked and reciprocated. I speak very obtusely about romantic relationships and business relationships. How a clear definition allows for freer movement, simpler decision-making, on everyone's part. For the most part.
What I do know is that I'm decidedly and happily single and busy as **** with my business. With my job, it always feels like I'm dangling off of some unknown edge, desperately trying to learn everything I need to to get it done. This is very similar to my plumbing and other issues with the trailer.
Coming back to Portland has been thus far characterized as overwhelming, underwhelming, and just plain busy. There's no end to that in sight. Glad it's bedtime.