Hello my dear travelers.
It’s been a while since I’ve written for you. But today isn’t just any other day. Today is the first day. This, October 28th (or the end of the 27th for most of my regulars) 2015, is the first day I am writing to you from New Zealand. I’m on the other side of the globe! Holy hell, how did that happen?
Well, it was a lot of time and money and planning. That’s how it happened. And lo, the past two years have now resulted in this, me lying here, quite tired and wishing I was asleep, on a very large bed looking out double glass doors onto a gravel driveway surrounded by greenery with sheep just on the other side of the fence. That’s right, sheep.
My brain is screaming at me to not even be writing this right now. But I told myself I would blog (or at least attempt to) everyday of my stay in New Zealand. Three hundred and sixty-five days in total. And this is the day that starts it all.
What I was hoping to talk about in this post was going to be the answer to the question posed in the title. And I’ll do that, a bit, but due to the aforementioned tiredness I think it best to wait till later to really flesh that out.
Besides being tired and not crashing my car, a good chunk of my time today was spent trying to wrap my brain around the fact that everything I’ve ever known, anything familiar or normal to me, no longer is a part of my life. I don’t have a favorite grocery store or well worn driving routes. I don’t know all the good restaurants and bars or where to pick up little knick knacks or home goods. I have to completely rebuild my life. New friends, new home, new job, new town.
The lack of responsibility or need to be somewhere is odd, too. Until I start working my time is filled only with those things I want to be doing. I mean, there are things I need to do, but a bulk of my time is still open to the imagination.
Oh my, it’s so weird and wonderful. It’s a bit like floating. Here I am, hovering above this new place, but where I’m set to land is still unclear.
Till tomorrow, travelers.