The Moment When

You realize that you make a bit too much to go back home and make less.

I’ve spent the last two months waffling about going back home to live the island life, whilst paying off my car note, credit card bills, and saving up for grad school. At the time, I thought I wasn’t making very much, so I felt very justified in going home and making a little bit more. My job is stressful at best, downright frustrating at worst, and I had a weirdly mild depression that I didn’t feel like I was coming out of. I wasn’t writing, the only thing I read was fanfiction, and my days are still being wasted on Tumblr with no productivity to show for it.

So why not go home? It didn’t seem ideal to waste my life up here, when I could do it against a backdrop of sea breeze and Rake ‘n Scrape. Eighty degrees in Houston, Texas is torture compared to eighty degrees in Providenciales, Turks and Caicos Islands. Admittedly, there’s not much to do in the way of a social scene – especially in comparison to H-Town – ┬ábut I’ve never been one to do much. I’ve got a hard drive full of anime and movies that I’ve yet to watch. I’ve got a bookshelf full of unread paperbacks – let’s not talk about what’s on my Nook. I’ve got a notebook full of prompts and three years’ worth of writing to make up for. How could I not crave that extra time not spent in traffic that I could put to good use?

And then I realized how much I actually make, in comparison to what I would be paid for in a similar job back home. I’d basically be paid anywhere from 5 grand less, to maybe 50 cents more.

I’ve got too many bills, and gotten too accustomed to a certain amount of freedom, for me to even attempt with that. If that’s not motivation to stay and make it work up here, I don’t know what is.

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