"Here's the thing about long-term travel. The highs are really high, but the lows are really low."
Emily, a Remote Year employee, told me that during my interview for the program. I believed her. I imagined homesickness, frustration, drudgery, and food poisoning.
I've experienced a dash of all of the above in the past week. The food poisoning is most recent and most top-of-mind.
I spent last night as a pitiful being, miserably confined to my bathroom while my friends explored the city.
This morning, my tummy is tender (okay, more than tender) and I'm feeling left out.
I'm not left out. It's FOMO, it's silly insecurity, it's all of the things Katherine wrote about in her most recent Medium article.
But it is a low point. Today, I walked a mile in the rain and felt close to throwing up the whole time. I am sitting at a table at a coworking space, trying to get through my to-do list. I am achy, I am grumbly, and I just want to lie down on Jeff's comfy couch and watch brainless TV.
But that couch isn't Jeff's anymore, and I haven't turned on a TV in a month. And I have a to-do list to get through.
Today, I'm rolling with the punches. But it's difficult. I'm in a terrible mood.
There is a dash of self-satisfied happy in this blehhhh morning. I feel miserable, but I'd still rather be here than in my old life. Without question and without hesitation.
Plus, Jeff brought me a Uruguayan grapefruit soda last night that settled my stomach and tasted delicious. Definitely my favorite thing I've tasted in Montevideo.
So there's a bright side to every low point.