If it’s any indication of how long it took me to reacquaint and reaccustom myself with life back in California, let this hiatus of 13% of the year be duly noted. Getting back was a bumpy road, just not the one I was expecting, and I’m glad to say that I’m finally getting on with my life.
Coming back I’m now convinced was the right thing to do. Rather than staying through May in Hong Kong, my predetermined motion to come back after one semester has paid off in ways that I could not have imagined. I do miss Hong Kong, but what I miss isn’t really there any more anyways. Just a few of my old friends are still there, many having returned to their home institutions. My exciting travels are no more as I concentrate on classes that I actually have to study for—not to mention all the money I’m saving my not going anywhere.
I miss the uncertainty of living abroad, the feeling that everything is still new, even if you’ve seen it a hundred times. Here is where I left half a year ago. Here is where everything is every day and nothing exciting happens—or so I thought.
I needed a jolt to get out of my stupor, a reason to remove myself for my lethargy, a motivation to start writing again, a feeling of urgency to acquire my stark anti-procrastination again. And I guess I got that jolt in the incident that just keeps getting bigger and bigger.
I’m glad I came back because I had to, and now I’m motivated to begin again. So I declare that the next post will be something of substance.
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