Surf surf surf surf surf
It’s the only thing I really want to think about today.
Surfers syndrome: a mental condition originating from spending any length of time in the ocean- characterized by the onset of high stoke levels while at or traveling to the beach and an apathy for almost anything else besides drinking good beer with friends. One affected with such a syndrome is most likely not really listening to what you are saying about filing those papers and other boring words people spew out all day. It can be safely assumed they are thinking of the last great surf session they had. Your affected person may be nodding with a few “yep”‘s and “uh-huh”‘s. This is merely a facade to please you as to leave them alone faster so they may continue their daydreaming.
Not to be confused with non traumatic myelopathy.
The office is mostly quiet except for the hum of my big floor fan and the distant murmurings of chatter. The air is still, stagnant, with the lingering of low energy, except for my big beautiful fan blowing its breeze my way. The front desk is a lonely place, save for the occasional co-worker who comes to get a candy from the bowl in front of my face, and the company of my friendly fan.
Over the weekend I was in the water a lot. Sunday waves were big. Bigger than I have ever felt comfortable charging after. Too scared was I. Until now that is. And I couldn’t be more excited about it.
I had so much fun out there. Face smiling, water spraying, and a pelican that flew low and close directly over me. The pelican I will take as a good omen from my father.
Being outside all weekend, hiking, biking and surfing, has re-invoked the stoke and stirred the restless wanderlust in me.
I thought I wanted this stationary life. I thought I wanted to work in a temperature controlled office with nice computers, set schedules and rolly chairs. I thought I wanted to stay in a routine that didn’t vary too much from week to week. Safe and easy.
I was wrong.
What am I doing here? Why am I trying to trap myself in a web of security? It could fall apart at any minute anyways. I could die tomorrow. That, and I am way too young to really need to start a serious career.
24 and so much more… so it’s been said.
I want to start having some serious fun again is what I want.
I will muse the possibility that, sure, maybe it’s running away from things here at home I want.
Or maybe it’s just longing for some good ol’ fashion exploring!
Having a relationship makes it harder to leave all this though. Especially if he wants to stay longer to start something for himself.
I have a foundation of a plan and I do need to stay awhile longer to accomplish some tasks. After that though….
you can find me flying in the wind, surfing the wave of exploration and camaraderie. Sitting high up on rocky cliffs and flowing with the river carving through them.