Waking Up in Bangkok

WARNING: Explicit language implied.

 

Waking to the  cacophony of my wonderful, kind, and handsome husband's snoring (sorry babe), my sleepy eyes scan the room and notice the lines of sleek furniture, strange power outlets and the littlest rays of hopeful sunshine poking through blackout curtain grommets. We're in Bangkok. My anxious heart feels reassured that the past 30 hours of airplane food, overly helpful Vietnamese grandmothers and foreboding conveyor belts wasn't just a weird nocturnal mind game. Trying not to rouse my sleeping beauty, I attempt to slide, then fall/roll out of bed. My fingers curl a corner of the heavy curtain to the side, revealing tall glass buildings, centuries-old wats (temples), endless train tracks, lots of people who look nothing like me, and scattered mini-piles of trash. Feeling a grin form in spite of myself I think, "What the F@!K have we done?!"


Fear, excitement, and fulfillment all converge in my being and I'm reminded for the hundredth time since March, for the first time in my life, I have no idea what I'm doing. 


Sure, my life could be adopted by Miriam Webster as an exemplar for trial and error. Though I've made mistakes and changed course multiple times, each turn in the road was diligently calculated and worried over. Even on vacation, I've been known to carry itinerary-filled manila folders or refer to well-organized Pinterest boards. Universe forbid I ever run into trouble or run out of money or *gasp* miss out on Forbes most recommended This or That. Preparedness has always been the name of my game.


Waking up in Bangkok today, is different. I'm different....or at least I'm trying to be. Waking up in Bangkok, there is no real agenda, no considerable plan and no cheat-sheet on how I'm supposed to be doing life. I'm terrified and exhilarated. This could be traumatic or the best time of my life.


Waking up in Bangkok, I have no idea what the f@!k I'm doing and I've never been more proud.


Hearts and stuff,

Carrie