Got back from Maine late last night. The weather was pristine. I couldn't have asked for it to be any better. I ate and drank a ton too and got around my grandparent's island and the surrounding islands as well. Although I laughed a lot, a disconnect was definitely present. I wanted to be writing, working and generally pushing forward towards other goals. Sometimes I just don't know how to kick back and relax. When my on-switch is turned I just go.
I feel like every time I go to Maine I get back so late. I drag my feet when it comes time to leave. By the time I pack my bags into my little Toyota Yaris it's already getting dark and the long drive home seems so much more melancholy. One of the only things keeping me from living up there is the complete lack of a job market. As I drove through downtown Portland on a highway overpass I thought of what it would have been like if I got awarded the fellowship and moved to Maine. The two years up there would have been amazing as I was working on the on-island projects, but if I tried staying up there to find a job or go to grad school who knows what sort of financial situation I would have would up in with my student loan interest running rampant.
So, I don't stay. I climb through the gears and keep moving along back home where I'll stay for now until my next ideal grabs hold.
I am so tired right now. Work has been a mad house. I need a real vacation where I do nothing. But you know I'd find something to do. I know it too.