I’m fucked, but part of me was like “at least I have another eye.”
I have finally gotten sick. I think it was a matter of time and as expected, I got sick in South East Asia. I got an eye infection, and you guessed it, diarrhea. I’m not the kind to go to a hospital but when puss starts coming out of your eye…yeah, you make it happen. It was weird. Part of me felt “I’m fucked” but part of me was like “at least I have another eye. And it’s the one that sees better!” After going to a specialized eye hospital in Hanoi, everything turned out fine, other than the confusion. The doctor couldn’t tell me what kind of infection I had since they didn’t speak English. Nor could they explain the prescription they gave me, but I made it to the pharmacy and walked out with medicine that I didn’t even know what it treated. But in the end, I can see in 3D again! It is during moments like this that the thought of returning home creeps in—or at least plans of returning to my old life. But I’m having doubts.
I don’t see my new life better than my previous one. I see it as different. They each have their pros and cons. This new part of my life has been a rollercoaster of sorts. Peaks of excitement and happiness, accompanied by troughs of loneliness, sadness, and guilt. These oscillations happen quickly. It’s actually similar to life back home with a nine-to-five. The main difference is that the ranges of emotion are wider now. There are no boundaries. It’s both scary and exciting at the same time—addictive even. It’s fun as hell, but it can be exhausting for such a long period of time. Sometimes, I actually miss routine. Gasp! I do. I miss not having to think: what am I going to do today? But instead just wake up, do my morning routine, go to work, finish up, and go home. It’s a well defined pattern that has pockets of flexibility to do your own thing not being dictated by responsibilities. Most of your day is automatically laid out. Perhaps what makes more sense is to say: I really liked my routine back home. I didn’t leave because I hated it. I left it because I saw an opportunity to do what I’m doing now. Needless to say, it was a great decision. Now I know what I will be missing should I return to NY and resume life.
At some point, I may have no choice but to find employment once again
I like both my lives to be honest. I feel very fortunate. But what really keeps me rooted on returning is the thought of being employed. Money won’t last me forever, not unless I decide to die young 🙂 At some point, I may have no choice but to find employment once again. If I’m to do that, I will want to go back to my old life, and maybe add a permanent lady friend 🙂
