On Restlessness

Some people are afraid of change. Change makes them nervous. They’re not comfortable not knowing what will come next.

I relish in the idea of change. Not knowing what the future holds is thrilling. Moving to new places, meeting new people and trying new things are things that I thrive on.

And now, I’m restless. I’ve been working and living in the same place, doing the same things for almost 2.5 years. It’s not really a long time to most people. In fact, I work with people who have been at it for 15 times as long. But, I know that this job and this place and these things aren’t what I want for the rest of my life, or even the rest of my 20s.

Or at least, I have that itch. The one that other people might scratch and relieve by getting a new haircut, changing their wardrobe or having a mid quarter-life crisis. For me, the itch is in that spot that’s hard to reach and caused by something that doesn’t just subside with time. With my itch, getting a haircut is like putting on the 1% hydrocortisone when what you really need is the prescription strength stuff. (Is this analogy getting weird? Struggles of an eczema sufferer.)

The last time I got restless, I moved 2,500 miles away sight unseen (unless you count facebook photos of a dog, a big screen TV and a box of cheez-its). And again, I can tell it’s starting. I look at job listings for places on the other side of the country and how much it would cost to live in those places. I calculate how long I could live traveling before I had to move back in at home. I wonder if I have the skills and tenacity to become a freelancer or an entrepreneur. I check out where I could go to volunteer abroad. And I say things that make my friends and family worry that I’m either going to abandon them and move thousands of miles away again, or, that I’m teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown (both of which may be true).

All because there’s something eating at me. Telling me that I’m settling. Whispering that there’s something better out there for me. Sure, it might be a case of “the seaweed is always greener in somebody else’s lake,” but I have a feeling there are adventures yet to be had in places yet to be visited with people yet to be introduced.

I’m restless. And I’m not the type to settle with a back scratcher, when what I need is calamine lotion. So now that it’s out there, everyone here should prepare for a change and everyone else should probably put some beers in the fridge and answer when I come knocking on the door.


2 thoughts on “On Restlessness

    1. kelly Post author

      Thanks! I sometimes envy people who have found a place that doesn’t make them restless. Or at least have enough reasons in a place to keep the restlessness from resulting in life-altering actions. What you have in DC, I’d like to find somewhere, sometime. Maybe not right now, but eventually.


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