Four months since I've been home and it's been a roller coaster. I couldn't have been happier to see the Philly skyline as my plane landed as dusk on April 22. My girls met me at the airport with champagne, played my favorite Philly song in the car and took me out to drink hoppy beers and dance at a place that I actually ended up working. Bri opened her home to me and I crashed for a month, a month that was full of job-searching (I now have 2) and general giddiness at the thought of being back home (which has since gone by the wayside).
It's not that I'm unhappy here and it's not that I want to go back to Uruguay, I am just a little lost. I would venture to say that returning and trying to put my life back together was even more difficult than adjusting to my life in South America. Not much has changed in Philly and maybe that's the problem. For 7 months, I was constantly presented with new experiences, everything I did I'd never done before; everything I saw I'd never seen; every person I met, I'd never encountered and it was exhilarating. But already, I sometimes forget that this all happened and I am forced to remind myself of it like it's slipping away or something.
Over the summer I went from world-traveler to waitress with a degree I am not using. I guess I'm going through the post-grad question mark a year too late. My lovely friends tell me I'm too hard on myself, but there are other people who make me feel like I'm not doing enough. I'm currently working two restaurant jobs, totaling 7 shifts in 6 day work-weeks and I am tired. The focus right now is to save up some money which I will use to get to New York, hopefully by February. To do what? is the questions every single person ever likes to ask. And the truth is I'm not quite sure. I have a few ideas, but mainly I need a change of scenery and I think I would regret it if I didn't. Surprisingly, I have my mom's support. I guess I opened a few gates when I switched continents, so New York doesn't seem so far away.
