I came to the realization yesterday that I’m not going home next week. Whoa.
In my mind I know that I’m not going home next week; I know that I don’t have a ticket booked, I know that I have a sublet for my bedroom, I know that I stocked up on cat food and kitty litter, I know that I quit my job…but I didn’t really realize until yesterday that that’s actually my reality. I am a nomadic, unemployed traveler. I am what I’ve read and researched online, and what I’ve dreamed about becoming. Whoa.
It’s funny how things like that sneak up on you. You’re walking down the street and *poof* a huge realization hits you in the face and you almost have to sit down for a moment. I am not going home next week. I am not going home next month. I am going to travel for the next few months. Poof.
I don’t know if I’m brave enough to do this.