It’s coming up in a few days, on the 12th. The end of my 20s…..

I can’t help but reflect. Since December, I basically finished backpacking through the desert of SoCal, visited Yosemite and worked in the Adirondacks in New York. Not too bad but my mind is still whirling with the possibilities.

The 20s were an era of their own. I fell in love, got abused mentally and physically, got drunk, got sober, thought I’d die, lived, was surprised by my friends with their love, missed friends, lost friends, gained amazing friends. I hoped and I dreamed. That’s all I can ask, I guess.

But I want so much more. I want friends that live far away from me. I want to see them and talk to them. I want to see my family in Finland. I want to see my ex.

Some will happen. Some won’t. That’s ok. But since my PCT attempt, I can’t seem to adapt to the complacent thinking I was used to.

I can’t have the regular jobs I did before. I want something more. But it’s taking a lot more effort than I thought it would take. I’ve never had trouble getting a job before until now.

I want something outdoors. Something substantial that would allow me to save money while also enjoying the beauty of the wilderness. I had some hopes of getting a job at the Grand Canyon but that didn’t happen. That was a little crushing since I thought I killed the interview, which was after being filtered through their HR.

Although I never finished the PCT, I understand rejecting the norm afterwards. I’m not content with settling down with a regular job. Accepting a job like I had before goes against every fiber of my integrity.

Life could be worse. I have a few friends that are ridiculously helpful and I would absolutely homeless without them and I’m not oblivious to that. I’m beyond grateful but I also feel like I’m outstaying my welcome. I need to make a difference somehow in the universe.