I am mostly writing a post because I wanted to use the word penultimate.
This is my penultimate night in the US and I am not even close to starting to pack. Potential travel necessities are piled high and haphazardly in the middle of the room. Am I really going to India? My plane ticket says that I am, but anything between now and April 15th feels like just a blurry passing of days in my way to get on the PCT. I think my mind has already crossed the distance between whichever space my physical form occupies and Campo. It sits there at the Mexican border and patiently awaits the arrival of the rest of me. Am I really going to a Yoga teacher Training? Last I checked I was a PhD student. My advisor profile read “Melissa Park – geophysical investigation of geothermal fields in Peru and Chile”. That still sounds very exciting from here. Was I a yoga teacher all along but having a dream that I moved to Canada to be a geophysicist? Or am I a geophysicist taking a strange yoga hiatus? Or will I end up becoming a semi-truck mechanic as my friend Steve suggested (“You’ve done everything else”, he said). I’m not looking for any answers here. I just enjoy the questioning, and also I like using words like penultimate.
I think being a semi-truck mechanic could be fun.
or a baker
a tattoed baker
a tattoed baker who is a semi-truck mechanic by night
I wonder if this is the kind of “inane mutterings and grumblings” (Tucker, personal conversation, 2012) people write on their blog. Good thing this is a website, not a blog.