I need a new life plan.
I knew this would happen after the Congo debacle: yet another week or so of me stressing about what my life will be like, what I will do, if I will accomplish everything I want to, if someday, I will look back and think, “Well, shit. I wish I could do it all over again.”
I want to be a writer. It’s the only thing I’ve ever really been sure of, even if I convinced myself time and time again that it was impossible. In 2007, after Cannes, I really convinced myself I could do it, that it could happen, and after months of on-again, off-again fervent writing and working, I know that this is the only thing I will be happy doing for the rest of my life.
So what next? Visa issues make my current situation impossible. I’m considering Spain next–Spain, which called to me when my 18 months in Paris were officially up. Spain, a place I fell in love with immediately, something that never happens, at least not to me. I usually need to get to know a place first, find its nooks and crannies. Spain opened itself up to me right away, and I fell.
So Spain. Easy enough to say, not so easy to do on the salary of someone who was banking everything on a job that didn’t happen. Is it still “throwing my savings away” if it feels like the next right thing to do? The next decision I will make that I will look back on, like I do today with Lille, with Cannes, with AUP and think, “thank God I didn’t let anyone talk me out of this.”
God I hope so, because I’m going to pay the deposit this week.
