Do you know how to piss off a traveller? There are specific comments that take a traveller/gypsy/wander lusting child from calm to boiling in a matter of seconds. Truth be told, I’ve become immune to the comments, it now goes over my head – I’ve heard them since high school. I’ve been sitting on my yoga mat for about an hour trying to meditate and I can’t get these little niggles out my mind, so let’s get these nigglies out, shall we?
- When are you going to settle and buy a house?
Breathe. I don’t want four walls and a picket fence. I don’t want to go hunting for a couch or pot plant. I don’t find buying a house a fulfilling activity – that kind of commitment sends me reaching for my passport.
- When are you going to stop travelling and start a real life for yourself?
Who said your version of ‘real life’ was real?
- Travelling is harmful to your career.
Nope. Untrue. False. I’ve studied during my travels and worked full-time. I used to take a 14 hour bus overnight to get to my exam venue on time using my cell phone light to see my revision notes. I’ve arrived back after the exam (the next day) after another sticky hot bus ride and walked straight into my lessons. What are my strengths? Multitasking and time management like a ma’fuckaaa. Besides that, seeing the world and meeting new people creates an extra heartbeat in your chest. You learn patience and you’re stripped of ignorant thoughts. It has yet to be detrimental to my career – most of my interviews consists of the interviewer asking me what Cambodia was like.
- You could be making more money at a desk.
Yawn. You’re a desk. You and your materialistic ass.
- Where are your savings?
How much is a VW Kombi and a full tank of fuel?
- Why don’t you take out a contract for your phone?
I have the funniest story about this; so I’m at the bank after returning home from being abroad for two years. A week previously to this I was bathing elephants in Asia – so I had reason. I asked the lovely lady behind the counter if I could open an account – and then promptly started crying. I got better at the cell phone shop – it was a heroic cry with only one tear gracefully falling down my face.
- I’ll keep your passport for you.
Bitch, are you high? I don’t tell my mom where I keep my passport. That shit’s the most valuable thing I own.
- You’re not 21 anymore – that uterus of yours won’t be fresh forever.
This isn’t 1912.
Phew… hawt damn it feels good to get that out. I want you to walk away from this post with one statement imprinted in your mind:
This is your journey – make your own rules. There is no take two to correct your mistakes.
Until the next rant,