Let’s start with the open admission that the last five years of my life have been a hot mess.
According to my much older and more experienced friends, this is perfectly normal for adults in their 20s … but, I can’t help but wonder if I stole the cake.
Somehow, I turned 30, and it felt like a light bulb turned on — or perhaps I’d coincidentally been sober enough to take a good, solid look at myself in the mirror and ask, “what the f*ck are you doing?”
Either way, I started stepping up and stepping out.
Now, after a good, long year of suffering through Uncle Sam’s round-trip, all expenses paid vacation; I’m excited to finally be heading back to the States and moving forward with this good ole’ life of mine.
For the first time in my life, I’m the proud owner of a brand new car. My credit is on the mend, which is amazing. I’m headed to grad school, which in all honesty should have been the path that I was on all along. I just signed a lease on an amazing apartment featuring two bedrooms, two baths, a private balcony, garage parking, on-site laundry, and close proximity to the Metra … in Chicago, this would be synonymous with the Holy Grail. I’ve got a partner in crime who is beyond supportive. And, I’m finally going to take the leap into working for myself …
I have much to be grateful for … much to be thankful for …
I have a home.
For the newer reader, I’ve been deployed for the last 11 months, and prior to that, I was in training for four months. By the time this is all said and done, I would have had about 16 months of long-distance lovin’ for my home town of Chicago under my belt.