Brett and I are thinking about quitting our jobs. I've already closed booking for after June of next year. We don't have a real plan yet but I'll tell you how it all happened.
A couple times each year I ask Brett if he wants to take a month off work to travel. He gets enough vacation to do that but we feel like he should save a week in case of plagues and pandemics. And each time I ask this, we loop around to realizing it's not he best use of "our" time. On occasions where I'm looking to be dramatic, I'll point out that our marriage has caused me to have to rearrange my preferred method of living. (That's quitting odd jobs to spend the summers in other countries.) "I've changed my life for you!" I'll sneer with a grin, because we both know I don't really mean it.
A couple months ago, Brett came home from an outing with Dad and said, "Let's take a year off to travel." I had Expedia pulled up within seconds. We spent a week mulling over a path to follow along the globe. We wondered what we'd do with the dogs, and the house, and how much money would it cost. When I came up with a schedule that chased the Spring weather around the world, Brett's enthusiasm shifted.
"I don't want to be on vacation for a year," he said. "Not a snooty, high faultin', privileged year of travel."
"Pardon?" I asked, closing out tabs of Italian summer homes. "What else is there? Taking a year off to travel is privileged. But we can sleep on park benches if you'd like. You know I'd love the savings."
"It's got to mean something or lead to something," he replied.
It took Brett another few weeks to work out his feelings. (Men.) He has come to realize that he is less interested in a "gap year" and more interested in closing one chapter and starting another. He wants to move to Europe or do humanitarian work in sad sack countries. He wants to wander from place to place doing helpful things and if he finds a place he likes, he'll just stay there.
I very much support this kind of aimless seeking of peace or purpose. It's what I've always wanted but couldn't muster the courage to do. We surprised ourselves by switching roles and I began asking all of the burdensome logistical questions. Are the dogs coming? What about Covid? Are you worried about your parents needing extra help in the next few years?
Of course, I've always pretended that I want live in another country. The farthest I ever got was Savannah, which hardly counts, and people who fancy themselves fancy act like I'm a bumpkin that's never crossed the bridge into the next town. But I eventually realized that I just want to be wherever my people are... but they aren't really up to much so a little time away couldn't hurt. Right? Maybe being wherever my person is would be alright too.
We've looked at volunteer programs all over, but they aren't quite right. They're too temporary and topical. We decided that perhaps we should cut it down to six months and do a few Work Away programs in-between trekking to places we've always wanted to go.
So that would all loosely start after my June wedding next year. But then we remembered about the Foreign Service. (This is sounding more convoluted as I write it.) We punched Brett's qualifications into the government website that lists the needed diplomats. He breezed right on through for an engineering position but there aren't any available right now - so he's on a waitlist of some kind. Maybe we're waiting on that. Maybe we're waiting on Brett to realize what he wants out of his suggestion to take year off in the first place.
I'll happily leave superficial weddings in the dust. They're all so uninspiring and vacuous. And repetitive. And meaningless.
People like me.
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