It’s just as hard to go back to a place you once left as it is to leave again.

Hello nomad.

I’ve arrived at my third home in less than a month. I’ve learned to pack very little in a short amount of time and not to have too much of personal attachment to anything for fear of leaving it behind. I’m not sure how I feel about this aimless living, this self-taught, reality-enforced way of dragging roots and never setting them down anywhere. This internship sets me on course for my future education and career and yet I feel directionless.

Enjoy your stay nomad.

I brought very little with me because I knew that I would be leaving again in 8 weeks. I already have 3 weekends scheduled to leave this hovel-y place and I have a suitcase for my shorter ventures. For a person who puts enormous weight on the places where she lives, this scattered life is hard. I’m used to travelling around and living out a suitcase for a month, but this is slightly different. Maybe it’s because I have to buy my own groceries.

Don’t get too attached nomad.

It’s a shallow existence, this rootless one. I don’t do well in rocky soil and droughts make me thirst for more than a sip of water. This summer is so much different than the last one because at least, I was excited for the last one! The hairs are standing up on the back of my neck and I feel tensed to pounce — but on what, I’ve yet to find out. I want this summer to be over as soon as possible, which isn’t exactly the mindset to have when I have 8 hours in a straight-jacket/lab coat. I’m ready to pack up all my stuff in my trunk again and leave this place of adulthood. Every child feels like that though. I am very much still a child.

Goodbye nomad.