Cookies, ice cream, French fries, milk shakes, French fries, milkshakes, French fries, pizza, soda. You name it, it went into my mouth this week.
Just don’t worry, right? Except that I’m worried. I’m worried because financially this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I’m worried because my one friend on the island is turning out to be anything but. I’m worried because my half friend is retreating to the jungle upon my arrival. There will be no welcome wagon, no “Hey, we’re here to help!”
I’m worried because I’m blurring the line between acceptable pursuit of individual happiness and just being selfish and dumb. I have an idea but it’s a vague idea. It’s a faraway hard to conjure and focus on idea. It comes and goes in dreams and sleep, then retreats to the nether regions of my brain, the dusty parts hidden from view.
It’s just me on this adventure. Yes my mother will come but be gone in a week. For the first time ever it is really really just me. And I’m going far far away.
Driving too fast, windows down, Jeff Buckley’s Grace bursting through the speakers. I remember. This is what I do. If no one else is challenging me, I challenge myself. Maybe this is the biggest one yet. Maybe that’s why I’m so scared.
But enough with the binging on food and fear. Now back to the can-do attitude. People climb Everest for fuck’s sake. I’m just moving to the tropics.