Montreal! New York! Brookline? Oh My.

Wow! What a day!

I have to say, it started off terribly. I was in an incredibly fowl mood because a staffing agency I was (am?) working with in so many words accused me of circumventing them, and I think they may have accused the company I was applying for of the same thing, which caused a lot of unnecessary tension for me. To the point where I started thinking, “What would my dad do?” and the answer to that question is “withdraw from the staffing agency and therefore withdraw the company application,” because my dad’s that kind of moralistic guy. He wouldn’t want to get hired under questionable circumstances and have that hanging over his head for the duration of his time at the company. It’s clean going or not at all. And for better or worse, he passed that along to me. I wouldn’t want that either. All day I’ve been flipping the coin over in my pocket, feeling each side’s engraving, fumbling through its ridges, trying to decide whether I should write opt-out letters to everyone or hope that any misconceptions that have been created could be cleared up. I’m pretty sure I know the answer. And the result of this has left me in a funk all morning. 

I went for a run, and that helped clear my head a little. I always have a plan of action after a jog, which is unbelievably fantastic—I sometimes wonder why I only go running once a week. And then one of my roommates made me eggs benedict; she could definitely sense that something was off (my drinking sauvignon blanc and lemonade before noon was probably a bit of an odd giveaway), and it was wonderful to be able to bounce some ideas off of her. This was followed by a visit to not one but two cafés in the Boston area, an aimless mopey walk through Brookline, and then a surprise call from Genevieve, who is one of my closest friends, and who—before she hung up—managed to buy us tickets to the broadway show The Realistic Joneses in July. And it occurred to me that that’s what I really wanted; the reason I was meandering through Brookline’s charming streets was because I needed a serious change of scenery. So New York, here I come!

But the power of this was intoxicating. Bob, another close friend, is visiting Paris, and this guy I’m currently kind of seeing is visiting Moscow, and I am in Boston alone. For months they are gone. I’m going away for one weekend. 

There I was, bus website still loaded with a giant “THANK YOU” for a trip to New York on my screen, and I thought, “Well, just how much would a trip to Montreal cost?” A few clicks later, it was "…Really? That’s it?….And how about a place to stay?” clack, clack, clack. “...Hmm, that’s certainly affordable….” A few confirmations later, I’m going to Montreal in June, and New York in July. I always wanted to go Montreal, and I kept putting it off because I didn’t have anyone to go with me, and finally today I just worked up the courage to go by myself. I haven’t figured out what I’m going to do yet, and I certainly don’t speak enough French yet to keep myself afloat, but I have a bus ticket, a place to stay, a camera, and a quiet but present determination to live my life the way I would like to, and waiting for any “perfect” moment be damned.