Screw staying put. I’ve four plane tickets scheduled for January, (not counting the one I used to come back to Manila) (fine, two of those tickets are for return flights) and loads more trips planned for the rest of the year.
You know how some people say that they have out-of-body episodes during particularly traumatic experiences? Well, I’d get transported to a foreign city – in a museum, on the street, in a crowded bar with a band playing – while a pleasant female voice announces, “This moment is brought to you by that one time you burst into tears in front of your boss.”
The thing is, even though I am lazier than a fluffy fat cat, I’ve been working non-stop since I graduated from college – freelance gigs on top of full-time/overtime jobs on top of more freelance gigs with bonus volunteer work. (I once had a week of free time between quitting one job and starting another. I spent it teaching art to little kids in El Nido. But hey, I got to go to the beach every day!)
What is my point? (Sorry, SQUIRREL!) Despite crazy deadlines and [content redacted], I’d manage to keep going by reminding myself that every spare paycheck would go into my travel fund and that, one day, I’d quit everything and travel the world. (Shut up. I know it’s cheesy. I have trouble with being, ugh, earnest.)
Quitting my advertising job a little over a year ago only freed me up to get attached to, oh, about ten zillion other projects. I had managed to sneak in a little trip to Canada last September (more on that soon) but the travel fund remains largely untouched. That’s about to change. Seriously. I mean it this time.
If you don’t see travel entries and photos on this blog within the month, please feel free to come up to me and whack me upside the head. Or you know, leave me a gentle reminder. Or offer your couch to crash on – I have a travel fund, not a trust fund; I’ve got to spend it where it counts, like motion sickness pills.
Which reminds me. I have to be off to the pharmacy for about a dozen of those plus some antacid and Vicks Vaporub. I’ve got a plane ticket to a place where spicy food and two-hour bus rides await. I’ve also got a cold, but what the hell. Pretty soon I’ll be off like a ninja, moving around so fast that no freaking virus will be able to catch me.
This blog entry is brought to you by copious amounts of cough and cold medicine. In partnership with Berocca.