I’m sitting in my office, staring at my monitor, and my eyes hurt. I look up, blank white walls on three sides, nothing to focus on. To the left, past the desk and body of the office-mate, a floor-to-ceiling window looking into a hallway. Through that, another blank white wall, fronted by a printer and a copying machine. Florescent lights cast their florescent glow.
There are those who forsake 9 to 5, refuse the full-time grind. Those who travel the country and the world, couchsurfing and wandering and discovering. There are those who wake up and decide that today is a good day to climb a mountain, or bike to the sea, or kayak down a river. And so they do.
I keep asking myself if I could ever be one of those people. I keep coming up with reasons why not. As my new job ramps up and the work gets more interesting, I will push to the back of my mind the nagging voice that tells me I need to get out and see and do and experience. But it won’t go away. It will fester and taunt me. And maybe one day I’ll finally listen to it.