putting on the same clothes as yesterday

June 3rd

I’m in a bad mood. I’m trying to make myself feel better, but it honestly won't happen until I make sure this bag is fine and that I catch my flight to Barcelona. I’m on my way to meet Ruth, who will be traveling with me for one week. I fucking hate these cheap airlines, they’ve taken so much of my money and its purely because of this stupid carry-on bag. I shouldn’t have brought it, but that's a lesson I just now learned. 

Croatia was really fun. I enjoyed hanging out with Robert and we had the best time in Hvar. Unfortunately, he and Isla broke up so he wasn’t feeling too great at the end. It didn’t affect us the nights that we went out to the club, which I appreciate. Maybe he was holding in his feelings or maybe it really wasn’t weighing on him. It was his fault, but the relationship was two years of his life and that change could be difficult for anyone. I wonder if her friends will tell her exactly what he did.

The more I think about Matthew the less I miss him, and the angrier I get that I’m not over it. I’ve lost my patience. 

I’m on page 50 of Capital. Nico is now in a different time zone which means that we won't be in constant communication. 

My goal in Barcelona and Majorca is to meet people. I had fun with who I met in Croatia, but it didn’t lead anywhere. Robert was there, so I wasn’t in the mood for a proper hunt. Instead, we made friends with a crowd of boys our age, who matched Robert’s charisma and who didn’t make a show of pining for me, so that we could still see each other in the morning on the boat back to Split and talk lightly of meeting again in the future, in San Francisco or in London, or wherever else the world might take us. 

I’m going to apply for a volunteer opportunity in Argentina. I am pretty certain of moving back to San Francisco and taking the position in the Mission District, but I still have to weigh my options. I’m worried about moving home and I’m unsure if I’m ready for it. It also might be the best choice. Maybe I could do San Francisco, then Argentina, then Spain. I don’t know. I keep making lists about it, but I have been having a hard time picturing my future after this summer. I think I can technically do whatever I want. That makes me a little afraid.

I want to make sure that I make enough money to live. It would be nice to have either a side job in the city, or one in general that pays well. If I move back to the Bay, I have more leeway since I could live at home, and if I move to South America, the cost of living is super cheap. Lots to think about. I’ll keep looking for something good. 

Pray for me and my bag. The front desk lady downstairs was no help so I’m going in blind. I may lose it in transit, or they may ask me to throw away all of its contents, because I bought the wrong upgrade, maybe. 

No one checked me and I am wondering if I could have gotten away without paying. Budget airlines are a scam.

June 4th. 

Things worked out in the end. I got home, I ordered food, and I watched Bojack. I like it better now because I don’t hate my life. I can laugh at the absurdity of it instead of resonating with how ridiculous he sounds. He said something terrible about his daughter: in reference to someone potentially having a crush on her, he questioned why anyone would love or be attracted to an offspring that came from him. 2020 me would have looked to the future and thought that I would grapple with similar thoughts. Now I realize that I probably won't have kids, or that whatever children come into my life will feel loved and appreciated. I think of Renata’s kids, or Eric’s kids, or Robert’s kids.

I had a meeting with my advisor this afternoon. She told me to stop walking around with headphones on, even if it's in Zaragoza. I’m still waiting for Ruth to arrive. I got to the airbnb last night, and they insisted on me paying all these random fees. I have this incredible anger against my hosts which is further fueled by my shame in using airbnb. People in Barcelona hate it, and they’re hoping to ban it by 2028, it seems. That makes sense to me, because of the housing crisis happening, and because of evil people like this host who charged me 50 extra euros because I arrived late to check in. It wasn’t my intention, my flight had been delayed. She felt zero sympathy and took my wire transfer impassively, which I yelled about only after, when I got on the phone with my mother.

I was exhausted from my flight so I passed out, but I was woken up sometime in the night by the door opening. I thought it was Ruth coming in through the front door, but that couldn’t be, because it was still dark outside and she was supposed to arrive after my advisor zoom meeting in the afternoon. I froze, but then I heard the door close again and it felt like the person had left. I fell right back asleep, unthreatened. The fucking hosts probably came back to check on me. Maybe if I had caught me still awake downstairs, they would have charged me another fee.

I’m on the beach in Barcelona now. I have two hours until my meeting, so I went for a walk. I’m not sure why, but this neighborhood feels a little separated from the rest of what I’ve seen. The brunch spot I found felt like it was in the heart of a financial district. That made it seem familiar, uncanny, like I was in a warm San Francisco. Then I kept walking, down a promenade, and I remembered where I was.

There's so much more English here, too. It makes me think maybe I don’t want this? Barcelona, I mean. It makes Madrid look more ideal. I'm saying this as a newcomer of less than a day. 

I love Europe. I want to live in the E.U., in Berlin or Madrid. I can’t stop thinking about making money, though. How could I come back here and support myself?

I think what I need most is a sign from somewhere else, something that answers my question without resistance. What I truly should do is look inwards. I still think I would be better off with an extra piece of information, which sways me in a definitive direction. 

Will I move back home for eleven months, or for three years? Or only for three months? I’m really curious about that Argentina position. I found something online about this film non-profit in Buenos Aires. That could also illuminate my path. It seems like such an ideal job, almost too good to be true. We shall see. 

My interview for the San Francisco position is next week.