After several lengthy conversations with close friends, I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t like staying in one place for too long. At this rate it will have been 1.5 months since I last traveled somewhere outside of the Chicago area. That is a long time to me. When you’ve been used to shuffling back and forth between school and suburbs, school and other cities, country to country, you get used to the excitement. The feeling that you’re not going to be in the same place for very long.

I think that may be what’s wrong with me. Before I started working, I did a fair share of traveling during the three months I was living at home unemployed. My family and I went to the Philippines for half a month, and Cincinnati for a weekend. I drove down to Champaign to visit friends. Even before this year, I routinely visited other places like St. Louis. And when I was abroad—well, I was basically in a different place every weekend. I do believe it was this time one year ago I was getting ready to head off to Panama for a school field trip. I can remember those four or five days so clearly. So many memories. And yet if you asked me anything about the past couple weeks, I don’t think I could tell you. Other than that I worked and bummed around.

Used to be I wanted to live the rest of my life out in Chicago. I just don’t see it anymore. I don’t see myself staying here in the suburbs any longer than a couple more years. I’ve said this a thousand times, maybe more, but I want to see the world. I need to see the world. When my mom was my age, she was living and working in Saudi Arabia, thousands of miles away from her home. I need to go back to Costa Rica and remind myself that those four months there weren’t just a dream. I need to go to London, the city I’ve been dreaming about for years. I miss my friends from all over the world, the international students I met at school now living away at their homes in France, Italy, Brazil, Australia, Colombia, Austria.

An old friend (“old” meaning I’ve known him for quite a long time, obviously) last week told me he was surprised to see me finally living at home again. That I wasn’t already making plans to jet off somewhere.

It’s like Shakira said:

Mi destino es andar
Mis recuerdos
Son una estela en el mar

Yeah…I’m too lazy to translate.

I feel old. Old and boring. I graduated from college only 5 months ago, and yet I feel like I’ve aged 10 years since. All I do is work and do errands and schedule time to sleep, eat and shower. My love life is so empty and dry, it’s as dry as the bloody Sahara. I go out every weekend and dance my ass off, but I’m no longer the fish I used to be (although that’s debatable…it may just be that my tolerance has lowered, making it tougher for me to drink the amount I used to be able to drink, but I’m not gonna complain too much ’bout that, ’cause hey in the end it’s better for my wallet). I’m shopping so much because I don’t have many work-appropriate clothes in my wardrobe. All the t-shirts and sweats I bought and wore in college are collecting dust in my dresser drawers. Most importantly, the NBA is likely not coming back this season and I want to cry in despair.

This weekend was homecoming weekend at my school and I felt like the only one who didn’t go back to party and visit friends. I miss my friends. I miss college.

Fucking a, I miss my old pre-workaholic life.

I really want to cry. I didn’t get any stuff done tonight, and it was one of my rare nights off from work. Instead of cleaning my room or paying bills (I got slapped with a $25 late fee because even though the online system claims my payment will be posted to the due date, it fucking didn’t and now I fucking hate credit cards with a burning passion—the HSBC Best Buy store card in particular) or updating my calendars, I went shopping with my mom, paraded around the room in my new clothes, and talked on the phone with my roommate (old roommate, I guess I should say…obviously we don’t live together anymore). And now it’s 10:52, way past my bedtime, AND I’VE GOT NOTHING DONE. MY ROOM IS STILL A MESS, I HAVE YET TO SORT THROUGH MY FINANCES, AND I NEED TO SLEEEEEEEP.

There’s also a good possibility I’m PMS-ing right now. Which would be great, because I expected my period last week and it would be nice if it could come now so that I can start birth control pills again like I originally planned to—last week.

My mood also shot down the toilet tonight when my dad started lecturing me about how when he first came to America he worked two menial jobs, from 6 a.m. to midnight and didn’t complain (which I totally don’t believe, there’s no way you can’t ever complain about a life like that). Like seriously dude, I was joking when I said 10 was my bedtime (I aim for 10:30) and that I wanted a break from working (by break I mean a bloody vacation, not calling in sick, silly).

And now I’m fucking wasting my time blogging instead of doing the actual things I’ve been meaning to do!! Waahhhhhhhh.

(I’m slightly sorry about the above entry. Please excuse my excessive swearing and whining.)

My life feels like a mess. Not a bad mess, but an actual, really disorganized mess. My room can’t stay neat for a day, I’ve got shit lying around and shit missing and as much as my OCD self wants to get that situation fixed, my new workaholic self keeps reminding me that I just don’t have the bloody time. And that’s because I spent the entire weekend being wild and social. My bank account took a hit, considering I went on quite the shopping spree Saturday and boozed it up several times with friends. I even managed to squeeze in time today for a nap and a movie, which the new me would never have ever done but the old me was just begging for some lazy time.

But alas, now I have to figure out my bills, get stuff situated, and all that good stuff.

• The movie I mentioned previously was (500) Days of Summer. I borrowed it from the library and saw it for the very first time. I laughed, I cried, I experienced bouts of epiphany-like states. It was a seriously damn good movie. I didn’t know who I was in love with more, Joseph Gordon-Levitt or Zooey Deschanel. More importantly, I didn’t know who I related to more, Tom or Summer. The heartbreak that Tom went through was more or less similar to the heartbreak I experienced with Boy O. But the attitude Summer had is exactly the attitude about love I have right now. Except unlike Summer, who didn’t really have any expectations of love and had previous relationships that didn’t come close, I’m of the mindset that I’ve already experienced the horrible things called love and heartache and I just never want to have to deal with them again. Hmmmm…
• I went to Medieval Times for perhaps the 4th time in the past 5 years. It was my 5th time overall. It was also my first time there as a legal drinking adult, which was interesting. The sad part, though, was that the knights didn’t come out after the show because there was another show to prepare for after, so I never got to take pictures with them. I also didn’t get to take pictures with the cute knight I’d seen twice before.
• Friday night I went out to the bars in Wicker Park in Chicago. It was my first time at the bars in that area, and I must say, it was a blast. It’s totally more my scene than Lincoln Park (too college-y, which I know I should theoretically love but at the same time there’s also too many fratty white people for my taste) or downtown Naperville (where I’d been last night, way too many snobby rich suburban folk). And it’s definitely a neighborhood I would consider living in someday.
• I have much more to say but my bedtime approaches and I need to get a good start to the week.

Is it freaking sad that I’m 22 years old and yet I feel like my best years are now behind me? That my life is basically over, and all I have to look forward to now is endless years of work, loan repayments, bills and other shitty adult matters? When will I ever be able to dance in the streets of small Central American villages again? When will I get to sit on rotted tree logs on the beach at one in the morning again? When can I ever have late night dance parties and vodka drinks with my roommates?

It’s 11:53 right now. Not even midnight, but it’s way past my bedtime already. I’ve been trying to squeeze in time this week to organize my accounts and bills and shit. For goodness sake, I have trouble finding time to SHOWER, let alone do the stuff grown-ups are supposed to do.

But in other news, I BOUGHT A CAR. My first car. It’s a black 2012 Honda Civic coupe, so beautiful, I’m in love with it. I’ve never been one to ever care about shiny cars, but damn I’m starting to understand the appeal. Picking out a car was like how I imagined picking out a wand would be. Lots of decision-making and careful consideration.

And so, on a positive note…at least I get to drive my brand-spanking new car to work tomorrow bright and early!