Getting older is a funny thing. For me, I've noticed that I'm more confident and seem to know what I want. This is a nice thing most of the time. When it becomes ironic, is when I look at my sense of adventure. When I was younger, I was absolutely terrified to be alone. Stuck with my own thoughts, no one to distract me from my crazy self?? No thank you! I would never have given a second thought to a summer abroad, for example. Too frightening! This probably led me to avoid a lot of opportunities in my young life, often making choices based on being close to others instead of considering what was best for me and my own growth. Honestly. I really regret never going abroad. Why the hell didn't I just go, jumping in head first to the unknown?
Interesting thing is that now I kind of like being alone. My sense of adventure and willingness to try and do new things is heightened. Why does it take so long to grow up?
As I've been looking for work, I've been trying to keep an open mind. So when I saw an opportunity to work as a Social Worker in Europe, I thought, "what could it hurt?" So I applied, giggling to myself, wondering secretly what it would be like to run off to Europe. Ha! It could be kind of fun, right?
Well, here's where it got interesting. I actually got a call back. And a potential interview in Miami next month for a position in the London Borough of Southwark. And it's the only call back I've really had, making twice what I could make here (of course, that would be about equal in London). Hmmm... I could actually do this. And I'm not afraid. But now that I'm older, braver and finally okay with being alone; of course, I'm not alone. I have my husband and 3 dogs and this makes it a little more difficult to run off to Europe on a whim. Maybe impossible. Sigh. I kind of liked the idea. Traveling; seeing France, Spain, and Germany nearby. And I have a few friends now in Germany, so I wouldn't be totally alone. When would I ever get that chance again? But I can't really take it seriously.
It's a bit ironic to me that when I was younger I was way too afraid to do anything like this, even though I was unattached and it would have been a serious adventure. But now, when I am brave enough to do it, I am no longer unemcumbered. So now I have to consider someone else's opinion, what he wants out of life. And it isn't running off to England. Now what? I guess maybe I let the dream die, keep looking in Texas. That's what's best, right? Still, there's this terrible nagging thought. My newly developed sense of adventure mourns the loss of the idea, even if it is really ludicrous. My family and husband think I'm nuts, and maybe I am. They don't really take my new adventurous spirit seriously. And I can hardly blame them. Who suddenly thinks, "I know! I'll pack up my husband & 3 dogs and move across the globe!" I mean, what if I hate it? How would I get back? And as a Social Worker it's not like I'd get paid a lot. England's expensive of course. Sigh. I wonder secretly what I might be missing though...