The Ultimate Fear

Am I becoming boring?

Ugh. Dear god I hope not.

I feel conflicted with my current state of stability. Overall life is good, my days are happy. I’ve got a job I’m pleased with, dig my home life, enjoy time with my family, am smitten with my new boyfriend, and have a bustling social life. But that kind of routine happiness makes for boring stories.

My conversation topics have become more tame, and I hate it. I want intrigue, drama, honesty, stimulation! Nowadays my mental and emotional focus is largely on professional challenges and the private, sappy joys of a new relationship. But no one wants to hear about those, right? Back to old reliable small talk. I’ve even started chiming in about traffic; mortifyingly mundane.

In a land that supposedly values freedom so much, why the hell are we so rigid about time in America? Why do we leave ourselves spent? I long for the lazy days in Caye Calker and the “go slow” lifestyle. I yearn for freedom of time to do what you want, when you want. The time to socialize, write, play, adventure, and rest. The time to indulge and recover. Now I feel tired often, fatigue creeping into my bones from trying to do too much. Naps are key to living a rock n’ roll lifestyle.

I was reminded in the nicest way possible recently that it’s been a year since I landed in Utila. Unbelievable. I have the simultaneous urge to buy myself a plane ticket and leave TONIGHT, yet also while away my time pleasantly in Seattle. The weather *is* turning beautiful, and oh won’t the fall be lovely…

I’m happy, and it’s driving me crazy.

Is this the final stage of culture shock? Does it ever go away? Or is this the perpetual plight of a traveler, no longer moving?

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