So the countdown has begun. 26 days until I move on to my next adventure.
I think I would be more excited if I knew what that meant. But the truth is, I don't know what that means. I have no plan. I have about a dozen half-baked ideas and a couple fairly undesirable back-up options, but no real concrete plan.
I've been thinking so much over the past few days that I've probably given my brain a rash. It's gone past the point of productive thinking and has reached into the realm of anxiety-driven thought loops. I know I need to knock that off. Because as overwhelming as the future often seems, it's only going to get worse if I paralyze myself with stress.
I keep saying I want to leave this town and it seems like it's time. I mean, I almost punched a hipster at a vintage clothing store the other day. If that doesn't mean it's time to leave Portland, I don't know what does.
The good news is that I still have those vouchers for Southwest Airlines that I received for getting bumped in February. And they'll be expiring soon, so I really should use them. I don't even really know where I want to go, I just know I want to go somewhere. I watch the bargain flights everyday. I should probably just book one and go, go, go.
...And do what when I get there?
I can hear the phone conversation now...
Me: "Hi Mom, I'm in Saint Louis..."
My Mother: "What are you doing in Saint Louis???"
Me: "I'm not really sure, but I got a last minute bargain deal on the flight and I think on the way back I might get bumped!!!"
I sometimes wish that life came with road maps...
