It has been 10 days. Maybe 11. Already I have drafts saved without endings that are unworthy of posting to this blog (and by unworthy, I mean… worse than the writing that’s already on here).
I told a friend I was rounding a corner. Once upon a time, I ran track. It was horrible, but I digress. My event was the 400 meter, a sprint that is short enough to be doable, but long enough to be exhausting. Rounding the corner was always the best part because the straight aways were easy. Rounding the corner meant that the long strides were coming and my lungs were ready. But I hit a fucking wall.
I try not to announce my triumphs, I don’t cash checks before the ink is dry, and I certainly don’t make plans beyond an hour in advance. I can’t. That hasn’t worked out for me. A lot hasn’t worked out for me. (“But Jasmine, a lot has.” I know. But you aren’t writing this.)
I can sit around and feel sorry for myself or I can make a change. Bruce Springsteen taught me that. Or maybe it was Plato. Like I said, I thought I was rounding a corner. Maybe it was a wall, or maybe it was just another corner and another corner and I’m beginning to realize I’ve been running in circles.
Last week, I reluctantly signed to an agency in Mexico City. When I imagined my career, Mexico was never a thought. Mexico City didn’t even cross my mind. Seven years of conversational French lessons to end up in Mexico? My hand shook as I scribbled a signature, followed by a sigh that had become the only reminder that I’m still breathing. My life has been on auto-pilot. I don’t feel anything, but I think about everything.
But then that didn’t work out. After a quick trip to the Midwest with my younger sister (a weekend full of complete bliss), I returned home to Alaska and a suitcase I had already packed in anticipation of being on the next flight to Mexico City by way of Los Angeles. It didn’t happen. I was staved off. Disappointed, but not surprised.
Now I’m here. I leave to Sydney, Australia around the middle of October. The flight has been booked and the Visa attained. I will be back in the United States around December.
I don’t know what’s next, but it isn’t this anymore.
Because God, it would be nice to announce a triumph, or cash a check, or be able to, I don’t know, go on a planned vacation without having to worry about an agency tracking my every move.