Listening to: “100 Days, 100 Nights” – Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings

Just got back from a send-off party at my office for two out-going engineers (unfortunately, they’re not particularly outgoing engineers). I spent a long time talking with Richard, a Scottish ex-rocker with long black hair. He had brought a quite expensive bottle of 14-year-old scotch to the shindig, which went down really smooth with a bit of water.

I’d listen to Richard tell stories even if they were boring as hell–the man’s got a Scottish accent, for chrissake! But his stories are really, really interesting. He’s traveled all over the world, met lots of very cool people, and done some very cool stuff. I was asking him about his travels, and how he’d been able to afford it.

Turns out he made his way from Scotland to Southeast Asia working the night shift at a frozen quiche factory. Once he reached Thailand, he got everything–room, board, booze, pot, and sundry–by playing his guitar wherever he went. I told him, I can’t play guitar. He said, there are a million things you can do to make your way. Then I brought up my student debts that don’t seem like they’ll be going away till I’m well into old age.

“There’s never a good time to go,” Richard said. “You’ll always be in debt, and there will always be a lot of good reasons not to go. So you just have to go. Decide you’re going to, and just do it. Go.”

He’s right.

Screw moving to New York after my lease is up in September. I’ve spent too long on the East Coast. Besides, I’ll live there eventually. I’ll get my parents to take care of Tucker for a few months, and fuck off to somewhere. Make jewelry, whatever. Do what I have to do. I’m good at traveling; I’ve done it before.

Fuck it. I’m setting a goal. I am. There’s never a good time, so why not now?