As I get used to the idea of being back in LA, I can't help but have brief moments, milliseconds, where I wonder if I could have or should have stayed in Philly a little while longer. Things have changed so much in these last few weeks, but what would have happened had I continued in that trajectory and location? Was coming home the right choice? Was the timing right? Did I leave too soon?
Just as I was about to write a semi-angsty, semi-philosophical post about life changes, I stumbled across a partially written but abandoned draft for a post. I started to read it, and as I continued on, I felt myself almost completely re-immersed into the situation and re-living the memory.
But why share this now? Why didn't I just delete it or leave it as a draft, or finish the post the day I started it?
Those are good questions.
I'm sharing the nearly discarded post now because it answers any doubt I may have had about coming home, and it is an honest portrait of what life looks like when your life narrative needs revision. When I started to write that post, I was being completely honest with myself, and anyone who may have read it had I finished it then, about how I felt at that time. You will find few people are willing to "break the 4th wall" of social media to show you times in life when things aren't shiny and beautiful. During the last few months of my time in Philly, there were too many days in which the narrative of my life did not match the narrative that I wanted for myself. In deciding to leave, I chose to work toward a better narrative.
Before you go on to read the abandoned draft, I'd like to clarify that when I say that my narrative needed revision that I was not referring to the expletives. Those are all supposed to be there. If you aren't cool with "bad words," then this post isn't for you. Anyway, the original post was entitled "how much longer." Here it is:
Things can always be worse, but shit, the idea of 5 more months of school makes me feel physically ill. It's not even just the classes, it's all of it.
Perhaps these thoughts are too personal for this place, but this day just got off to a shit start. I've heard the average bad mood lasts for 12 hours, but we're well past that, so maybe I just am going to have two 12-hour bad spells back to back. I realize that some of these may sound like they aren't real problems, but they're enough cumulatively that I don't feel good.
1. I started off the day walking to work. Pretty normal. It was cold as fuck. Also pretty normal. Unpleasant, but typical for this time of year. I was bundled up and trying to get myself in the zone to go to work when I heard honking coming from an ambulance in the parking lot that I cut through every morning. The honking continued a few times and so I thought something was wrong and looked at the ambulance. When I looked up, the driver was smiling and waving at me. I had no idea who this person was and I didn't realize that I was getting hollered at until another person in the parking lot made a comment.
I fucking HATE getting catcalls. Few things piss me off more. If it's before noon and you feel the need to catcall, then you probably need to go the fuck back home, rub one out, take a cold shower to take the edge off and try your day again.That's right folks. My day started out with a catcall from an ambulance in a Rite Aid parking lot. At that point, I needed feminism, I needed an adult, and I needed to get the hell out of Dodge. You'll notice that this would have been event 1. in a series of bad things that day had I finished writing.
This was all I needed to see. I made the right decision.