Moving on is much harder in an empty house in LA
Not to be Captain Obvious, but moving on is much easier when you’re sipping mocktails on the beach on the other side of the world. Since I’ve been home, the combination of jetlag due to the 12 and a half hour time difference in India, no gas or money to go anywhere, and renewed 24 hour a day access to the internet are not helping my goal of being a happily single woman.
After my second sleepless night in my sister’s bed, as mine is covered in souvenirs and half unpacked suitcases, I have come to the conclusion that I am going to need to formulate a plan because it’s 5 AM and I am running out of things to Google to occupy my busy brain and my fingers are itching to find out what he’s been up to while I’ve been gone. It seems like the more I realize how far away I am from the beach where I made my recent resolution, the easier it is to forget it.
It’s kind of like New Year’s. The farther away we get from that “start over” date, the less resolute we get about the promises we’ve made to ourselves. But I refuse to be the girl who swears to go to the gym three times a week on January 1, then has scaled back to watching exercise infomercials in her sweats on the couch while munching on her third bowl of cereal by the time President’s Day rolls around. I refuse.
