Here I am yet again, writing a blog post at 5am.
Yes, that was an unintentional rhyme and no, I don’t plan to make a poem out of this post. I just want to talk about something that people seem to glaze over when it comes to travelling: coming home.
I’ve never found it hard to leave home for an overseas adventure. For me, it’s like an escape from reality that lets me explore the world and experience all it has to offer. For anyone who’s read my post about my plane obsession, you’d know just how much I enjoy leaving the country to leap into the unknown.
But something I’ve recently discovered is a surprisingly strong dread towards the thought of coming home. Not the ‘seeing family and friends and sleeping in my own bed’ part, but the idea of returning to reality and having to fall back into old routines after such an exciting time abroad. It’s exactly what I’ve had to do over the past two days after returning from the states and honestly, I’m really struggling to stay sane. After 3 weeks of non-stop adventure in the big apple, life at home just seems mundane and boring in comparison.
I came home to an empty house, exactly as it was when I left it. My whole family is overseas on a West Coast road trip right now, so I’ve been tasked with the duty of manning the house and keeping the rabbits fed whilst trying to settle back into everyday life.
I know that I shouldn’t expect anything to be different, but I can’t help that it all feels different. There’s no rumble of the metro outside my window, or a symphony of honks and angry yells from impatient drivers on their daily commute into the city. There’s no spontaneous singing or JB’s remix of ‘Despacito’ blasting me awake each morning as a partially naked Steph runs around in a towel yelling about puddles. Without my two favourite travel buddies Caitlin and Steph by my side, the house just seems dull and foreboding, and it’s making me miss the hustle and bustle of the city merely 48 hours after leaving it. #theseperationanxietyisreal
In New York everything was non-stop and exciting 24/7. There was always an adventure to be had and curfews to break when an exciting opportunity arose in the middle of the night. There were cools Brits to meet downstairs in the basement of our hostel (don’t worry it was a perfectly safe kitchen/chill out area, not a congregation point for the local murderers appreciation society) and people to smash in ping pong 4 nights in a row #pingpongchamprighthere. I made so many new friends from all around the world over a cup of tea and nachos, and I can’t wait to meet many more next time I take a plunge into the unknown.
I guess all I can do now is try to create some sort of daily routine that will make life a bit easier for me in the coming weeks. I’ve got a uni intensive starting today (in T-minus 3.5 hours exactly, whoops) that should help keep me busy and productive, and I’m planning to catch up with some friends later in the week, so hopefully I don’t go completely insane and soon enough my next trip will roll around and I’ll be able to escape this city once more.
Adios Amigos *insert USA flag emoji*