So, my parents are gone. I am sad to part with them and would like to keep them here waiting on me hand and foot (love coming home to clean dishes. love), but alas, they had to (so they claim) leave. Now I am back to whipping up five little containers of rice and beans to take to work with me for lunch instead of just taking the lunch as my mom handed it to me on the way out the door. Spoiled, much? (There was also the fact that they had a car and paid for everything. Sweet.)
Anyway, I'm back to my routine after an exhilarating five days of walks, waterfalls, and beaches. It's nice to sleep in a real bed again.
For various reasons, I may have to face that which I have been putting off for months: the decision about what to do next. My plan has been, for quite some time now, to ignore, ignore, ignore the need to make that decision. And it isn't that I can't keep doing what I'm doing, it's just that I may have to actively choose to keep doing it sometime soon (i.e., turn down something else), and that is more scary than just continuing to do it through sheer laziness.
I got a book out of the library, a book about humanitarian law (the law of armed conflicts, for you non-law people), and it reminded me of how much of my life I spent studying this stuff. Every paper I have written since 2001 (every paper whose topic I had the freedom to choose) has been about humanitarian law. It's been so much a part of my life for so long, and now it's just a book I take out of the library.
I have a dilemma: none of the jobs I really want to do exist here in Gone West. They are all somewhere else, generally across an ocean or two. And yet, I love living here. Except in the winter. (Which is most of the year.) And I also hate moving. And yet, I itch to go.
I guess that's really no different from the dilemma I've been facing since 2007.
...
Private note to the girl walking down the sidewalk in front of me today: if I can see the top band of your tights, your skirt is very likely too short. Either that or ditch the tights.
Anyway, I'm back to my routine after an exhilarating five days of walks, waterfalls, and beaches. It's nice to sleep in a real bed again.
For various reasons, I may have to face that which I have been putting off for months: the decision about what to do next. My plan has been, for quite some time now, to ignore, ignore, ignore the need to make that decision. And it isn't that I can't keep doing what I'm doing, it's just that I may have to actively choose to keep doing it sometime soon (i.e., turn down something else), and that is more scary than just continuing to do it through sheer laziness.
I got a book out of the library, a book about humanitarian law (the law of armed conflicts, for you non-law people), and it reminded me of how much of my life I spent studying this stuff. Every paper I have written since 2001 (every paper whose topic I had the freedom to choose) has been about humanitarian law. It's been so much a part of my life for so long, and now it's just a book I take out of the library.
I have a dilemma: none of the jobs I really want to do exist here in Gone West. They are all somewhere else, generally across an ocean or two. And yet, I love living here. Except in the winter. (Which is most of the year.) And I also hate moving. And yet, I itch to go.
I guess that's really no different from the dilemma I've been facing since 2007.
...
Private note to the girl walking down the sidewalk in front of me today: if I can see the top band of your tights, your skirt is very likely too short. Either that or ditch the tights.
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