Coming to America

I am currently in my office at my desk. I work in a Chinese public school as an oral English teacher. We are in our last week of oral exams. Next week I will leave the place that has been my home for the past ten months. I am excited. Let me count the ways. l’m actually going to do some traveling around my home country. I have been broke since I left home for university eight years ago.  Second, I can’t wait to get all of the mother fucking vegan junk food that the good ol’ USofA has to offer. I have plans and I have money and I don’t have to f-ing work.

 

I’m worried that I’ll hate it. I’m worried that I’ll love it. If I love it and don’t come back the PRC, I’ll lose money, I’ll be going back on a contract, a plane ticket and some random bullshit I’m leaving here. If I hate it, whatever, I’ve got a return ticket and I never have to go back. There was a point living here when all I wanted to do was go home. But, that passed. There isn’t anything for me there. Save for a space in my mom’s apartment or a job at costco. I see my friends and I don’t want their lives. I know facebook is bullshit, but I’m the kind to go. Not to stay.