So that’s something I should be grateful for. I’m an introvert and these days I am a brooding introvert to boot. So it’s good for me to have space and time to sit and think. I don’t expect to crawl so deep inside my own thoughts that I can’t crawl back out, but I really appreciate those weekends where I don’t go anywhere: park my car on Thursday, don’t come back till Sunday morning…. ahhhh the life.
I’m also fortunate to have this space, where my typo-ridden inner-self can write whatever, get it out and (sometimes, ideally) keep it moving. I mean I also have my private journal as well… but it’s good to have both… to walk the line between public and private.
That’s a privilege. That’s a blessing.
The thing is, I often ask myself whether these dreary, introspective posts belong on here. This blog kind of and kind of didn’t start off as a travel blog. But I always had posts about randomness going on in my life, even when I was (stuck) state-side. Some of those posts were way too personal and I ended up doing a purge of sorts after I got back from Qatar. Then after Egypt I guess, I shifted and started trying to make my focus more of the travel experiences.
But ex-pat blues are part of the travel experience. This is more than a funk. This is more than just home-sickness, it’s more than any of the crap I mention here. But it’s not helped by being abroad either. Sigh.