I sit around in my room for hours on end, drinking tea and listening to The Sleep Playlist on Spotify. I curl up with a book, the only interruption being the frequent whistles of a text messages from the girls, because even though we are in four time zones, we stay together. I wake up and make my coffee at home. I don’t go out to eat. I cook rice in the rice cooker. I talk to my roommate about goals, and dreams, and Haiti. I fall asleep at 630p. I eat tortillas again, and pack bananas, and apples in my lunch. The bus isn’t part of my vocabulary, and for some reason, problems and all, I adore my car, my Greta Rose. Boys simply seem like a distraction in my world now. I’m happier without. I feel like myself again. I like this life.
I like this life when I’m home, at my condo by the river. I don’t care to go to work, because it’s inconvenient being delayed all of the time, and getting back at 4 in the morning (Even with 6000 miles separating Hawaii and Florida, some things remain familiar). But I still go, because it’s the why to me living in Florida. It’s my way to pay for flight training, and apartment, and living, and travel. I’ve cut out getting my nails done, and I really want to buy a new lip gloss, but my adorable car may break down any second, and I have to have money for her health care plan (Obama didn’t offer much help or healing for her either).
Sometimes I feel lonely. Yesterday, walking through the terminal, the airplane parked at the gate next door was leaving for Los Angeles. I just wanted to find a seat, even if it was a middle. I want my family. I could have gone for a couple of days, but then there are these goals that I set, obligations that I’ve made, and I’ve inadvertently created permanency for myself. Maybe aspiration is my proverbial goldfish that will keep me grounded.
There are times that I like the lonely. In the quiet moments, I think about what story I should tell next, and how I’m going to pay for flight training, and study for the flight exam. I hate studying, but I love learning. I’m learning a lot right now, and that makes me happy. I then wonder if this is the direction I should take in my life. Then I remember that, right or wrong, I’ve bought a website, scheduled my medical, first flight lesson, and picked an exam date. That sounds like “all in” to me. And people tell me that I’m afraid of commitment…
No. I just refuse to commit to something that I don’t believe in, am willing to fight for, invest in, and can see a potential future with. And maybe, at this point I refer to my decision to become a pilot (which is a big deal), but it absolutely applies to relationships. I will commit to what I believe is worth risking for.
I’m beginning to wonder if I like being a flight attendant because I like being a flight attendant, or if I like being a flight attendant because I like being a writer. I don’t know. And then, I can’t decide if I’m working on becoming a pilot because I want to be a writer, or because I am in love with flying. I can’t really see flying without stories, and stories without flying. Maybe a little like how Peanut Butter goes better with Jelly than alone.
And then I figure that I probably don’t need to decide all of that right now, because I know the agenda for tomorrow, and besides, it’s already two hours past 630p, which in my new committed world means goodnight.
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