Saying goodbye to something great

I hate pants. My preference for pantlessness has always bothered people, but in my mind, pants are binding, annoying, and uncomfortable. They represent the threshold between the day's obligations and freedom. And around here lately it's all freedom and no obligation, so you get a pretty good idea of how I'm spending my time.

The only semi appropriate underwear pic available

I've been unemployed for almost a month and what scares me the most is that I'm not bothered by spending my days pantless, reading, cooking and doing laundry. I have fallen into my own rhythym and part of me wants to stay forever in this in between increment of time where nothing is of consequence.  Were all these years that I spent in school and working just a distraction for my true desires for nothingness?

I don't really believe that to be true but too much time on my hands gets me thinking and thinking gets me anxious and anxious gets me writing, so here we are.

My time in France is coming to an end and I feel like anyone wrapping up the best year of their life would feel--nauseous. I'm scared that I won't be able to come back, scared that it won't get better than this and scared that I will end up at square one living with a family member and trying to find myself. This is supposed to be my time to regroup and relax before the craziness of moving back to the US begins, but instead it feels a bit like a mourning.

Okay, it's not this bad yet, but I am feeling a bit depressed.

When I began this blog I was a strong proponent of "finding oneself" and being open to the options. But as time goes by I am starting to believe that it is best to just jump at something and let the pieces fall where they will. I had no idea how this experience would go or where it would leave me, but I took it--because I love to travel, I love all things French and I love proving to people that I can thrive in difficult situations.

Speaking of difficult situations, there is a stack of 17th century French theatre across from me on my desk and I can't find the motivation to tackle it. This has been the first time in my life that I have been really hesitant to move forward, because I know I am moving away from something great. Deep down I know that I need more than the nothingness that has become my daily routine since work ended in April, but the idea of starting over once again makes me feel tired and nervous. New town. New school. New job. New apartment. New routine. Ready go.