I did it.
And I thought the whole packing and moving and goodbye New York thing would be the hard part. But suddenly what I thought I wanted - no plans, no strings attached - is suddenly the most daunting thing imaginable.
And just when I think I can't possibly be any more overwhelmed I realize that the real root of the problem is the simple fact that I don't have a single clue of what I want to be when I grow up. Which is an absurd thing for a 28 year old to say, but there you have it. I'm sitting here staring at job website after website, fear rising that I am clueless, lost and painted to a mighty uncomfortable corner.
I knew moving wouldn't immediately solve all my beef with life and that things need time to set and gel. I'm not surprised by these feelings. But I still don't have to like them.
It's my blog and I'll whine if I want to.
Being a wanderlust is only fun most of the time.