10 weeks out: Preparing for Ireland.

1.

There’s a plane ticket, my name is on it. It says on August 11^th, 2019 I will be flying out from Stewart, New York to Dublin, Ireland. I’ll land +1 day. Time zones seem pointless to me. From Dublin the idea is, I’ll find a place to buy 35mm film- ideally as soon as I walk off the plane. Illogical, but that’s the plan. From there, it’s straight onto a 17 minute rail to the town associated with Keats. Two nights and an itinerary and then and then, I’m off again.

The next touristy attraction I’m doing, is to climb. Quite literally, a hunking rock covered in green situated in the Atlantic ocean. The online boards all say it’s a rough boat ride to the site. The Great Skellig Michael. 600 steps, I’ll begin training on my third floor walk up tomorrow. I’ve ordered a pair of SHRIVER HI Dr. Martens. I plan to start breaking them as soon as they arrive, Tuesday. I also cannot forget to book the tour boat now. I’m afraid it may rain though.

2.

I’m worried about money for this trip. For the times that I am not participating in a work-exchange. Worry creeps up like excitement most days. Yet, there’s still much to be accomplished even before I leave. Like my stuff. Do I pack it all up and put it in storage? Will I ever need it again? Will I even be staying state-side once I get back? I don’t know why I’m asking questions I know I will put it in storage. I love my material things. I also know I probably won’t stay: I know about a work-exchange in Costa Rica. Regardless; it’s settled, I’ll put it in storage pay three months in advance.

Still I’m worried about money, about this trip. I’ve drained my bank account with plane tickets and hotel reservations, and vegetarian food from whole foods. I have money coming in. I’m applying to a second job. I think my boss is trying to push me out. 10 weeks is all I have, I have to make it count.

3.

Everything I own has been reduced to fit in one room. On March 27^th (roughly) I received a 3-day notice to vacate from my two-story apartment accumulated with belongings of a two year failed marriage. Apparently, asking to break your lease and receiving permission to do so is grounds for an eviction. I took it though— excitedly. I would finally be free of him, of us, of all the furniture and décor I had bought trying to make it a home.

So, here I am in the back bedroom of a historical apartment. It cost me $230 a month. It’s without a lift and instead a three-story walk up. There is no central air and a third roommate, I’ve only just discovered: a tiny grey mouse I’ve been unable to catch it. The ceilings go on forever and I walk just about everywhere. There’s white crown molding and a bathroom I love. Living with your best friend really isn’t hard—

4.

Today is May 30, 2019. Approximately, one week ago I decided to take my savings (meant for a van conversion) and to follow my dreams fear. I can’t answer the question: ‘who are you?’ Hopefully, in 3months and 10 weeks I can tell you a little about me. No I was not inspired by Eat Pray Love.