Home.
An 11-hour flight to Dallas, 2 days in Ft. Worth over Christmas after a cancelled flight, and a short trip back to Minneapolis brought me home. Aaron picked me up, turning out to be one of the most surreal & movie-like experiences of my life. I’ve been home for a few weeks, regrouping and settling back in.
I hate it. I am bored out of my mind because I sleep all day, sit at home, work out, watch a movie, and go to bed. There’s no excitement. Even going to a couple of parties has proved to be somewhat of a bust. I’m used to being constantly stimulated by new experiences, languages, people, and places. There’s nothing new about Minneapolis. No one has changed and the city looks exactly the same.
I’ve realized that people here create drama to do something with their lives. There’s nothing else around to take up time, so people stir up fights and rivalries, dumb jealousies. The people I met while studying abroad didn’t really care about things, so there was always just a general camaraderie. We laughed it off when someone kissed someone’s crush or someone had too much fun at a POW. Here, people are just itching for things to talk about, so they turn to the subject of other people.
It’s led to somewhat over a depression. I have no idea what to do. I’m trying to get a job, but I don’t think that can even stimulate me enough. Talking to a friend who’s staying in Stuttgart, Germany until September made me green with envy. I know I’ve got at least one friend from Paris that’s feeling the same way while he’s home, so it’s nice to not be alone in my thoughts all the time.
I just want to go back to the constant enrichment, new acquaintances, and new stories to share with others. Paris, tu me manques.
