I use to think that being in DC was the one thing I needed to begin a new life and meaningful career. The magic was supposed to illuminate the moment I stepped into the doors of a prominent international development organization to work on global health issues. I thought I’d live in the city, walk past tall and historic buildings during my walk home, breathe in the evening turned night sky, and validate my personal success.
Since being more patient on the career front had to happen, I find myself vacillating with numerous possibilities and dreams swept across the board. I live in different worlds as I try to groom myself for an extra degree and career in X while I consider a far-fetched path by taking Y seriously. This also makes studying for the GRE difficult and frankly, unappealing. It’s almost more alluring to discern what my talents and skills might be within the confines of my room than to review material for a crucial yet fatuous (at least I’m applying one of its vocabulary words!) standardized test.
I got a job, a place to live in the city, and I’m lucky to have met amazing souls so far, but I somehow still remain in my own bubble once I reach the elevator to leave for the day. I love experiencing the ebullience of the east coast, like hearing the breeze whisper past autumn foliage or witnessing the slightest onset of winter flurries through the glass window. And finding friends isn’t difficult since transplants make up half this city’s demographic, and there always seems to be a happy hour, fundraiser, or potluck to fill your Google Calendar. But I come home to silence, tune to NPR on the vintage radio a past tenant fortunately left behind, and prepare my dinner. I’d be remiss to say I didn’t enjoy alone time, but sometimes being on your own in the city—just being a grown up—can be lonely. At least lonely people make the best dreamers.
Now on to studying…