What would a decent blog be without an honest post about feelings? Don’t get me wrong, life abroad genuinely makes me happy. In fact, I awkwardly don’t feel entitled to feel feelings that aren’t so peachy because I know I have it good compared to others. Like, how can I complain that my abroad situation is taking a turn south when there are people starving! Perspective, Monique, Perspective!
Anyway, I digress. I’ve been in a funk these past two days, and after telling myself I’m not entitled to feel that way because look at what’s all around you! Ireland flags! Irish accents! Drunk homeless Irish people! I realized, you know what? We’re entitled to feel however we please! I am entitled to my (little) feelings!
Alas, two things are bringing me down. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m going to have to quit my job at the hostel and begin the search again when I return from my summer travels with Alex. There’s no way I expect them to keep me on while I’m frolicking in a metaphorical field of poppies in Thailand, getting my tan on for an entire month. This bums me out because job searching is a frustrating, full-time job in itself. That pays nothing. Ugh.
Complaint number two is that my flatmates, who I
maybe illegally sublease my tiny New York City sized bedroom from, decided to let me know last night that when I come back from aforementioned travels, that my rent is going up by €100 a month, which is a 25% increase overnight. Do you know what happens when people jack up prices 25% overnight in the real world?! They riot! They loot! They blow things up! Literally, this is some shite, and I am not happy about it, because I can’t afford my own beloved apartment anymore.
So, basically, when I get home from my travels come end of June, I’ll be homeless and jobless. Every girl’s dream. Do you see why I’m feeling a little blue right now? How am I supposed to enjoy my time on this trip when I have this looming grey cloud awaiting my arrival back to Dublin? Wahhh, take me home. Life is getting a little hard, and I want to cuddle in my big Texas-sized bed and smother my soul in queso. And I really miss how cheap America is. Europe prices stress me out. I miss dollar sweet teas from McDs. And I’ve been craving a cheap Chinese buffet. And if I could find a way to transplant a Chick-Fil-A nugget tray to my doorstep, I’d personally deliver unicorn tears to whomever demanded it.
However, though I will be jobless and homeless at the end of next month, I do have one thing I didn’t have when I arrived with 50 pounds of my most precious cargo three months ago. I have friends here. And we all know we get by with a little help from our friends. And, so, mostly with the help of myself (because I’m too proud and independent for my own good), and a little help from my friends, I’ll come out of this with a job and a home, I’m sure. I can au pair. Or DJ. Or be a sign spinner. My former Girl Scout training begs of me to be resourceful in situations such as these.
And, instead of focusing on the
lack of monies I see in my bank account bad, I’m going to see this as just another opportunity to change things up a bit. Working in a hostel introduced me to all kinds of cool people (and psychos, but that’s for another blog post), and I’m excited to see where my Ireland 2.0 journey will take me. I can’t believe I’ve been here almost three months and am getting ready to say a temporary goodbye to my second home (and my Ireland 1.0 journey); I feel like there’s still so much to do and see, though I feel more comfortable tsk tsking the tourists. The tourists and their obnoxious American clothing. Light wash mom jeans? Seriously? You couldn’t dress up even a little to come to Europe? And is that… is that… a faded hoodie? With…a hole in the elbow? Seriously! Tourists these days!
This Eeyore mood too shall pass. And plus, how else would we know how to appreciate our good days, without appreciating a bad day?