unpacking issues

I used to think I liked to pack and unpack things. When I was a freshman in college, I had so much fun moving out of my first dorm, and living somewhere new. Three years, three dorms and a handful of unforeseen trips later though, I've realized I really don't enjoy task of uprooting myself and all my belongings at a predictable interval of five months. And it's not just because I have enough stuff to fill more than ten bags and containers. It's because I've realized - how could I not, given my complete antitheses populate my tiny social sphere - that I'm a couch potato. Really.

I've also realized though, that this is the lifestyle I'll have to learn to love if I truly am to become my ideal FSO [Foreign Service Officer]. If my mother's job is any indication of how my future will look like, then it probably means living in a different house - in a different country - every few years, adjusting to all sorts of weather and terrain, etc. Oh yeah, and being game enough to eat absolutely all kinds of food. [And this is where my mother fails, because she's a picky eater, and the fish she likes best are in our hometown.] Not to mention, I'll probably never get married. Ha. Ha.

But whatever. This is my life, and this is what I want to do. So everything else can just suck it.