Alright people, it’s clear as crystal I don’t have a bloody clue what I’m doing anymore.
I’m wasting my golden unemployment opportunity. It’s been five months and I’m all, “Whoa, I don’t have a job?!” You’ve either been following along with me and rolling your eyes about me being a whiny jerk, or you’re waiting to see how the hell I’m gonna get myself out of this jam.
I don’t have any energy. I don’t have a shred of energy. I’ve been sitting at my kitchen table for weeks with my hair pulled back in a half-assed ponytail, lips red with wine and wearing the same pyjamas from yester-year because I am tired.
I’ve applied for jobs. Many, many jobs. Halifax was a good spot for me. I thought I could live there, I thought GEE! I love that city. I still do. I’m still waiting to hear back from positions in town. I still love THIS city. I still love Newfoundland with the kind of patriotism that makes me cry when I see our flag floating in some stranger’s backyard five provinces over. Don’t judge.
And then, after months and months of self-doubt, misery and uninhibited booze binges, a few people came to me at one time. Well, why don’t you travel?
I have several reasons why I don’t travel.
1. I’m broke. I’m not kidding. I mean I dropped all my pay cheques on my student debt, and took care of a fair chunk of it, but it’s not going anywhere anytime soon. I have minimal savings to get me anywhere, and if I’m unsure of stability, it’s just not happenin’.
2. I’m terrified. Life is safe here. I have more friends on hand than I know what to do with. My family is six hours away. My family is unhealthy. I have a house-load of furniture, including the world’s best bed. My god, I love that bed. I can’t even express my love for that bed.
But I do realize now is the time to travel. I’m free. Free as the wind. And I’ll do it, if I can.

This photo has nothing to do with anything but it’s 1:20 a.m. in the morning, so give me a goddamned break. Also the dog I’m taking care of just farted some kind of toxic gas and I’m feeling slightly disoriented.
What CAN I do?
I do have options.
1. I could get my TEFL certification and teach abroad, especially in Asia. More specifically in South Korea, where I can live outside my comfort zone AND pay off debt. Why am I not doing this? Asia just isn’t at the top of my list right now.
2. I could go work in Australia or New Zealand. People have been encouraging me to go there so much I figure they’re onto something. It’s warm there, and I could hug koalas. But the plane ticket from here to either one of those places…sometimes upwards of $2000. Then I’d have to find a place to live, and a job.
3. I could go back to school, learn French like I’ve always wanted, and do an exchange problem. Except I doubt I could afford the tuition and student loans won’t back me up now that I’ve been a professional for two years. Life’s a bitch in the real world, ain’t it?
4. I could take my potential freelance work and move to a country with low cost of living, like Thailand. My god, everyone loves Thailand. It’s out of this world. This might be my best option, but again, the $5 billion plane ticket.
5. But do you know where I really, really, really want to be? More than anywhere else in the world? Greece. The Greek Islands. I am so inspired by Greek history, the ancient civilization and all their art, that I want to LIVE there. Really LIVE there. Not the three weeks of visiting I had planned. I mean I want to see a fair chunk of the 1400 islands.
Of course, this is my hardest, most unlikely option. Greece is falling apart at the seams and the only people they want working from them are EU citizens. Teaching is unlikely, and it’s not a cheap place to live.
So tell me, friends. Tell me how you’ve made money abroad. How you’ve managed to live comfortably jumping from country to country. I’ve exhausted all my resources. To sweeten the pot, I’ll give you my firstborn if you can outline a legitimate plan for me to make money overseas while still managing to pay off my debt.
Don’t say prostitution.