I fell asleep at 8pm after a first day back of 3 classes, unpacking, laundry, a 5k on the treadmill, my bike seat falling off while in traffic on the way home, and half a bag of goldfish crackers for dinner.
I woke up at 2am to 4 missed calls, a frantic text message from a friend, and vague memories of speaking to my mom on the phone while half asleep during our nightly 8:30pm chat.
Through all this jetlag fuzziness - there is one thing I know, as good as it is to be away from this place, it is good to be back - back to the routine of school and work, back to purposeful friendships, back to orphan work that fulfills my spirit and gives me purpose.
This culture is exhausting. I feel like I am always fighting a battle because someone is lacking logical sense. But going home helps me to see this life in a new light, to get some perspective on timelines, (that I'm not here forever - probably) and that I should enjoy the journey because everything has it's time.
It's in these exhausted moments that I like to evaluate life. Why the crap do I live here? Why do I "do this to myself"? How did this all happen? And will I ever have a family, a stable home, an automatic washing machine, indoor heating and cooling, and a kitchen besides a wok and a hot plate? Why...why....why?
Because He said so. Because if a white, previously picky, private school girl from suburbian Florida can stick this out - it is a testament to something bigger than myself.
That's why I get on the plane every time.
I'm so, so, tired.
But tomorrow is another day, another Chi.nese class, another work night, another chance to change a little bit more into the woman I'm supposed to be.
Even if that woman is jetlagged beyond recognition.
4:35am. Maybe I'll try to sleep.
walk slow. xoxo.