Yesterday I came across a blog post with a stoic, philosophical, self-help-like content on how we often take tomorrow for granted—that we could leave our life right now, that we should not delay reaching out to others when they come to mind, et cetera.
I then think about how fucked up my plans would be if I don't believe in the possibility of having tomorrow. I proceed to swim distractedly, finishing up a 20-minutes exercise routine I set for myself, planning on gathering my scattered thoughts in a crappy scribble piece of a post.
Anyway, hi.
No, I was not offered a place to pursue a degree in Sweden.
Yes, I'll be leaving my home 5 days after my 28th birthday.
No, I no longer work a full-time job.
Yes, I still have freelance work on my plate.
No, I'll not get to spend time with my girlfriend just yet.
Yes, I'll be living abroad alone.
No, I'm not prepared.
Well. I may be ready enough, though.
I ponder my life a lot. How much did I lost chasing who know what I was after. Sure, it provided financial stability and a sort of career advancement per se, but that shit augur a shift in my social life, not that I have much of one to begin with. I feel a disconnection as I consciously distanced myself from friends and family due to the extroverted nature of my work. But honestly, all the inescapable circumstance made me somewhat more matured and help me gained confidence to take this step in life; study abroad on my own.
It's also strange because—right after my resignation—I ended up landing a long-term freelance gig with the same client I almost worked for had I not chosen the path of being a writer at the company I left. Weird, right? I think so.
I had set aside a grace period for myself, intending to take some time I deserve to relax before tackling the tasks that need to be completed in the month of June. And now it's the last day of May, so I'm clearly panicking, if I may put it that way.
That full-time job led to my rather bad habit of intentionally delaying the completion of tasks, as I try to avoid the sense of emptiness that comes with finishing early. I had so much free time during a certain period, yet somehow I just couldn't use that time for anything else and instead waited until after 6pm to proceed with my things. I guess I felt guilty as I technically sold my 8 hours a day for the company. But as a freelancer and someone getting shit done before relocating, of course I can't continue living that way. duh.
Anyhow. I guess I'm just lonely and I missed a lot.
Mostly social life and my work ethics.
And—obviously—I miss life with you the most.
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