Sunday, August 28, 2011

It's. About. To. Go. Down.

An earthquake and a hurricane in the same week here in Sin City…End Times never looked so bush league.

I couldn’t sleep all weekend. Both Saturday and Sunday I didn’t get to sleep until 7 am.  Sitting up that early I got to thinking about all that’s gone on in the last six months, hell I got to thinking about all the days I’ve lived in New York.  Did I give this town fresh hell or am I tucking tail after getting smacked around by car? I think mostly I realized, I don’t give a shit about money and prestige in the way that NY and its inhabitants give a shit about money and prestige. I want to get better at living, a trained monkey can make six figures and hire and fire. In this town, everything is fine until it isn’t. You’re one paycheck, one wreckless driver, and one psychotic boss away from death, doom, and destruction.

Friday was 6 months to the day that I got hit and left for dead. Friday also happened to be my last day at the job I’ve had for the last six years. I think leaving has been long over due. In a little more than a month I am going to say goodbye to my girl, and this town.  I’ll be in Europe for two months, and then I am moving back home to Texas. I don’t know how to feel about that, except that the familiar is necessary right now. Simultaneous to that need for familiarity is the need for something absolutely counter to what I’ve known my entire life.  I’ve always fantasized about a bucolic country life – farming, picking fruit, writing shitty poems about the mating rituals of cows, but now I’m imminently about to make that happen.  Once I’ve landed in Europe I will be alternating between the great cities of Europe and its glorious hinterlands. I’m still fumbling my way through and WWOOFing., but I will relying on these two organizations to help me really travel as opposed to being a feckless American tourist. I suppose that is just a frame of mind, but let’s not kid a kidder it’s super easy to end up hanging with Americans  if one isn’t vigilant.

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