Public thoughts on travel and life (from a very private person)
October 6, 2016
An article by Anna
I sat down, started writing, and then deleted what I’d written.
I wrote about how I haven’t been writing, and then I deleted that too.
I am ashamed of not posting anything in September, especially because I have things to say, especially because I took a wonderful trip.
It is embarrassing to write that I was ashamed.
I’m trying to leave that sentence alone, let the admission stand.
It seems silly to write this list. I’m trying to not delete it; it’s hard.
Sometimes I have to pretend that France doesn’t exist; I want to be there so badly, all the time.
Lately I’ve been haunted by the things that I thought I would have done by this point in my life – have children, learn French, live abroad, write a book – and I’m trying to forgive myself for that.
I’d like to get to the point in my life where, instead of writing about not posting in September, I instead write about the fact that I’ve posted new content every month since March 2014 (with the exception of that damned last month).
Lately I’ve been taking screenshots on my phone of submission deadlines that come my way on Twitter.
I’m thinking of taking a social media break in November, perhaps for the rest of the year.
I’m astounded at how satisfying licorice tea is, especially in the evenings, especially because I don’t really care for licorice.
I’ve been heavily wanderlusting lately, seeking out jobs and writing programs in other countries.
They have such difficult jobs, but I envy my friends in the Foreign Service for their travel-heavy lifestyle; I know it’s not all glamorous, not by a long shot.
My goal for this weekend is to write an actual post, about an actual place, and what traveling there meant to me. Stay tuned; writing is, has always been, one lonely word after another. I’ll try to start stringing them together, again, as best I can, and soon.