Communting
There is something about commuting that makes you homeless.
You cease to belong somewhere and you just are kind of transient everywhere you are. You aren’t ever really fully present at home because you are constantly thinking about the next time you have to go to work, you are never really at work because you are dying to get home and the only place you really are present is on the bus/train or in the car.
By that time you have comitted yourself to something. You are driving, you are riding you are doing something that you have now made a commitment to and you cannot stop.
As my summer ends I find that I have never found it easier to make major life changes as it is in this moment. I took out a loan. I’m buying a car. I quit my job. I took a new one.
Commuting makes me hate making any decisions. It eats all of my hard earned wages and it makes me miss home even though I still live there. It makes me insane.
I never focus on any one moment. Ever. I always have to go to bed, or get up, or get ready, or do laundry or something.
And I wouldn’t really mind except I have the life of 75 year old woman with no family and I’m 22.
I just want to go home.
