Know Your Name and Go Your Own Way

If you're shocked, it's just the fault of faulty manufacturing

Lately I've been feeling a vague tug somewhere around my heart/lung area, which I'm attributing to a sense of Wanderlust, and not, say, the plague. Between my 3-ish jobs I'm working more than full-time and getting less than satisfactory sleep, but I've got this nagging feeling that I'm not doing much. My life consists of my path beween NCC, the condo, Friday's, and the radio station. Every so often I'll drive the other way on 55 and spend a few hours staring at The Boy, or mosey a couple miles to the west to see my dad, but all in all I'm on a very narrow wheelbarrow path.

I want to get out and experience life outside of my Naperbubble. I want to move away. Just get up and go. Start my grown-up life in a place where I'll be forced to make new friends, learn new roads, adjust to a new climate, shop at a new grocery store, find new parks to walk in and movie theaters to frequent and bars to loiter in. I want a new view out my window where, for a while, every day feels strange and fresh, and perhaps even a bit lonely. I'm getting clasutrophobic surrounded by all this familiarity.

In the meantime, I'm making a pledge to myself to simply experience life. I'm going to read the newspaper and actually figure out, as best as I can, what's happening to our economy outside the scope of dwindling restaurant business and lackluster tips. I'm going to start conversations with people who are passionate about this election, one way or the other, and find out what makes us tick. Come election day, I want to be in a crowded room with other people delirious with hope, so we can be lifted up or crushed together. I'm going to take more walks where the air actually moves around me and the temperature changes from shadow to sun instead of sitting in my climate controlled hive watching crime dramas. I'm going to laugh more, think more, and attempt to feel more, so that when I do feel a minor twinge of emotion it's because it's something genuine and true, and not just a random misfiring of my robot heart.

Who wants to come with me?
Thrine