I struggled to get this started. I had no idea what to ramble on about for my (currently) monthly blog post. And, of course, I’m leaving it until the very last minute. Some things never change.
I’ve been back from Europe for a little over a week, and I’m already preparing for my next long trip. This time, I’m staying in the US (Asheville, NC) for a pet sit. Even better, it’s close enough to where I live that I can drive.
That’s going to be a whole different packing game than what I’ve done for the three long out-of-country trips this year. No trying to figure out what I can fit into a suitcase, no baggage weight limits, and no wondering whether I really need that one extra thing. I can just throw stuff in the car. Revolutionary!
While I was still in Albania and those last few days of the trip were upon me, I was looking forward to being home. I was ready to be done with the constant moving around, figuring out transportation, finding places to stay, and making decisions.
But once I got home, it just felt…off.
Maybe it was the jet lag and lack of sleep, followed by coming down with a cold (I know it was you, British dude at the Tirana airport, who was patient zero). But I’ve felt so meh since getting home. I haven’t had much motivation to do some of the things I’d been planning to do while I was here.
And it’s not like I don’t have things to do. There is plenty to do around the house, along with some personal goals I’ve been wanting to work on. But the motivation just hasn’t been there.
One of the things I was looking forward to about being home was not having to make big decisions for a while. By the time I left Albania, I was at peak decision fatigue. I was just tired of planning accommodations, figuring out how to get from one place to another, and doing the constant math.
People never seem to talk about how much math there is when you travel. Converting currencies, calculating travel times, converting temperatures, figuring out distances plus converting kilometers and meters to miles and feet, figuring out the time difference (for work), and comparing accommodation prices. It feels like there’s always something to calculate or another decision to make.
And that’s on top of deciding where to go, where to stay, where and what to eat, what to do, and what comes next.
All that to say, I was pooped mentally. I didn’t want to deal with actual travel or the planning that comes with it. I wanted to just be for a while.
But then I came across a post about pet sitting, and it sounded like a good fit on my end. I sent a message and left a comment on the post. I received a reply shortly thereafter, and we ended up talking the next morning.
And just like the Mexico sit, it came about pretty effortlessly.
I leave exactly two weeks after getting back from Europe, and the sit itself will be five or six weeks. Since I’m driving, the end date can be flexible.
What works so well about this situation is that I can get away without all the stuff I was wanting to avoid. No airports and flights. No baggage fees or weight limits. No paying for accommodations. No moving around every few days or having to figure out where I’m going to stay next.
I’ll be working my usual US hours, following my normal routines, and basically living my usual life…just in a different place.
And honestly, that sounds pretty great right now.
It’s a chance to get out of my usual environment without having to make my entire life revolve around traveling. I can have a temporary home, settle in, take care of some animals, work, and do my thing. I don’t have to be sightseeing or making the most of every minute because I’m somewhere new.
This is the kind of thing I’m discovering I want more of: not necessarily more travel, but more freedom to live where I want, for however long I want, without every move becoming a whole production.
The amount of time I’ve stayed home between trips this year has kept decreasing. I was home for about seven weeks between Asia and Mexico, then five weeks between Mexico and Europe, and now two weeks (exactly) between Europe and Asheville.
When I look at that progression, it’s a little surreal. At the beginning of the year, I was booking a one-way flight to Thailand. Now, I’ve spent much of the year moving between places that, not all that long ago, I could only imagine visiting.
But I don’t necessarily think the goal is to spend as little time at home as possible. I’ve talked about wanting to have a life at home, too. I have things I want to accomplish, projects I want to work on, and things I want to enjoy here. I want my time at home to feel like time I’m choosing to spend here, rather than time I’m spending here because I haven’t figured out where to go next.
And I used to really love my house.
Since my beloved cat, Kabobby, passed away in January, though, it hasn’t really felt like home. It’s a very familiar dwelling.
That might sound like a strange distinction, but it’s the best way I can describe it. This is the place where I’ve lived, where my stuff is, where I know where everything is without having to think about it. It’s familiar. It’s comfortable in a practical sense.
But it doesn’t quite feel like home in the way it used to.
I think losing Kabobby changed something about that. He was my last pet, and his absence left a pretty big hole. The house is still the house, but the life that filled it has changed.
And then there’s the fact that I’ve now experienced what it’s like to feel at home somewhere else.
Mexico was a big one. During my nine weeks in Lo de Marcos, I found myself enjoying all the ordinary things: walking to the grocery store, going to the beach, spending time around animals, being part of a community, and making pico de gallo a couple of times a week. Life felt fuller, but also simpler and more relaxed.
I wasn’t just visiting a place. I was living there.
And when I came back to the US, I realized that the place I’d left felt more like home than the place I’d returned to.
Albania didn’t end up giving me a clear answer about whether I want it to be one of my seasonal homes, but that was part of the point of the trip. I went to find out. I got to see some absolutely gorgeous places, figure out what I liked and didn’t like, and learn more about what works for me.
Not every place has to be a place I want to live. And not every trip has to result in a new potential home. Sometimes the answer is simply, “Well, now I know.”
I’m still figuring out what all of this means for my actual home in the US, too.
It’s a house that I’m starting to feel might be nearing the end of its time with me. There are things that need repairing, maintaining, or overhauling, and still plenty of clutter to deal with, even after the first big round of getting things out. When I think about everything the house needs, it can feel overwhelming.
I’ve had plenty of opportunities to think about whether I want to keep it, sell it, or do something completely different. I’ve even gotten all those unsolicited offers from investors wanting to buy it as-is.
And yet, the idea of not having a permanent address makes me feel a little itchy.
There are practical reasons to have an anchor, of course. But I think there’s an emotional piece to it, too. Even if this house doesn’t feel quite like home anymore, it’s still my home base. It’s the place I can return to, the place where my things are, and the place I know is there when I need it. Plus, I have a big part of my identity tied into being a homeowner. And I’ve lived in this house for the majority of my adult life (23 years now).
I’m not ready to make a decision just because I feel like I should make one.
For now, I’m in the questions phase. I don’t know what the answer will be, and I’m trying to let that be okay.
Maybe I’ll keep the house. Maybe I’ll eventually decide it’s time to move on. Maybe my idea of home will keep evolving as I spend more time living in different places.
I don’t know yet.
What I do know is that I’m curious to see what it’s like to spend five or six weeks in Asheville, living a relatively normal life somewhere else. No big itinerary. No flights. No constantly moving from one accommodation to another. Just a temporary home, some animals, my work, and a different place to settle into for a while.
It feels like a nice middle ground between being home and being on the road.
And maybe that’s exactly what I need right now.