So many people tell me how jealous they are of my life. What most people don’t realize, I’ve had to turn down several amazing job prospects, with much better paychecks, hours, perks. I’ve had to weigh the pros/cons of working in Manhattan with 4x’s the pay, vs staying where I am, living the life of a nomad. I’m sure my choices have disappointed people close to me, because they can’t explain what I do for a job, when asked how I’m doing. I can barely explain my job to people who have no idea what the company is. I usually end up saying, it’s a glorified construction job, that travels.
Am I happy? Mostly.
I’m exhausted. It’s hard to work the hours we work. It’s hard to adjust to time zones with no time in between events. It’s hard to see videos of my 1 year old niece sing, “let it go” when the only word she knows is “go” and not miss her. It’s hard to meet people and have relationships when your day off is …. Tuesday. It’s hard to see people in the airport who are traveling together, to the same destination, and will travel back with them. If I go somewhere with someone, I usually do not travel home with them.
I love this life, though. As hard as it is, I’m good with it.
At the end of my life… I will DEFINITELY not have much “stuff.” My ability to constantly get rid of things, never ceases to amaze me. I pack for 2 weeks as if it’s 2 days. I actually had to remind myself en route to the airport for this trip, that I actually didn’t pack a shirt other than what I was wearing, so I found one in my car. And when this life is over, which might be tonight or in 70 years (heaven help us, if it’s that long … I better be in amazing shape and still moving on my own at that point) while I can’t take anything with me, I’ll have a lifetime of stories and experiences. Maybe even by then, I’ll have figured out Polish.