I fear sometimes that I am doomed to always feel unsatisfied with my life. That I will always want more. To do more. Experience more.

Such is my dilemma at the moment. I just moved into a new apartment in Brooklyn, finally. No more renting a room from some weird dog lady who smokes her weight in cigarettes every day. This time, my name is on the lease, and I’m here all year. That’s huge for me, because I’ve moved around 3 times just this summer. I do have roommates, but so far, I’ve had very few issues. My apartment is great, even if it’s mostly cosmetic. It’s still mine for the foreseeable future. Don’t think I’m ungrateful in anyway.

Yet, my wanderlust is becoming unbearable. I need to get away for a while. I haven’t traveled since 2008. Do you know how long ago that is?! Of course you do; it’s basic math. I’m feeling trapped, boxed in. The last time I felt that way, I moved to New York. And before that, I tried Orlando, which didn’t last long, because Orlando kinda sucks when you’re away from the theme parks.

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There are moments when I look at the buildings here, or I’m walking in the Financial District or somewhere when I think there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Other moments I think, “God, I can’t imagine living here for the rest of the year, never mind the rest of my life!”

So, what do you do when your wants and desires are at odds with each other? Am I just meant to be a jet-setter and I’m living in denial trying to be a normal 9-5 chick? I probably just need to get over myself and accept the life I have, even if I’m miserable most days.

Reality sucks…

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