“San Diego. Mmmm, drink it in. It always goes down smooth.”
(Let’s just be honest: I’ll be quoting Anchorman the entire time I’m here.)
I would say I’m a fairly independent individual. I am not afraid to do my own thing, spend time by myself, go to the movies or to lunch/dinner by myself and (gasp!) use a public restroom without a gang of girlfriends accompanying me. I can take care of myself by myself. I’m not afraid to fly and/or travel by myself. Hell, I traveled to Chicago and navigated my way through the West side via train/walking on my own. (Hey, it was my first time traveling on my own. Period. I don’t know why I was so headstrong to take a train to an interview (dumb), but it didn’t turn out TOO bad. They offered me the job. I refused. That’s another post altogether.)
I actually require “me” time in order to function…well, in order to feel like…me. I’m an introvert through and through and used to the entire living-inside-my-own-head thing. I’m used to being with myself and dealing with myself, worries and neuroses all.
Why do I feel so alone right now? It could be because I’m doing something new, something I’m not used to. I’m taking a jump. Maybe it’s nerves and the weight of everything from this past year weighing down on me. Maybe it’s a combo platter. I don’t know.
Either way, I look forward to running tomorrow morning. Getting back to the routine. After that, who knows? …And that’s what makes me anxious.
