First semester wrap up

(from writing wkshop assignment)

I was supposed to find my answers here: answers to a
still fuzzy career, answers to my two cultures,
answers to aborted romances, and all the answers to an
unfilled future. I flew across the Pacific to find
the jigsaw piece to launch me into the next ¾ of my
life.

(Are you saying that I’m not going to live to a
hundred and one?)

I thought answers would come from shock treatment.
Cultural shock for my cultural schizophrenia. The
shock of a cushy 9-5er for my career outlook. And of
course, the shocking sight of J-girls in high boots
and high skirts for my lovesick puppies.

Funny thing is, it’s really not all that shocking
anymore. Or rather, it is shocking in similar ways
every time, and I can begin to find comfort in the
predictability of things. I still don’t get it, but
I’m seeing patterns. And I’m getting used to the
routine.

Which is bad news for a pilgrimage of answers. Things
need to be shaken up a bit. It’s time to get out of
the rut of the comfort zone and move my booty.

Because if I sit on my ass for too long, I’m going to
forget about the questions.