Okay, so my rejoining of the rat-race after traveling is maybe not as dramatic. but I can certainly empathise with Michael Corleone in my own little way.
When thoughts are prompted having repeatedly been asked how I'm, "settling back into life in the UK", of the heart sinking realisation of how I'd actually totally forgotten about travelling, and left with the "yeah, fine, just slipped back into it really" retort.
Those who have travelled with know how sad that truly feels. Imagine the first day back at School after the best summer holidays ever, and multiply that by a 100.
How long ago it all seems now? Just a blurry dream that filled the vacuous space away from work.
Work work work.
"It's like you never left eh!?" my boss bleats, followed by the light-hearted pity slap on the back as though to say, 'You may have left for a bit but you're back now aren't you!". He might as well have had little horns, pointing with his red spindle like fingers at a piece of blood stained paper with the words "we own your soul" on it.
Meh, here I am 3 months & change on and I'm thinking about life, somewhat similarly to before, pondering a few noticeable changes between the two times, notably:
- A much more hungry work ethic (I know, I was surprised too).
- An improved zest for life (outside of jumping from a plane) for new experiences.
- A better understanding of the world.
- Likewise, its people.
- A lessened tolerance of stupid people.
- A need to prevent the stagnation of all of the ideas above.
I'm not sure where this is going, needless to say I love you all that much.
This is what it's like to be 30.
Life begins here, fuck the last 29 years, they were nothing. Look out world, etc. etc.
As Dylan said: There's a battle outside and it's ragin', it'll shake up your windows and rattle your walls for the times, they are a-changin'.
