Southwest has a catchy saying that I absolutely love using in everyday conversation: “Wanna get away?” This saying is usually said after something disastrous, embarrassing or mind-numbingly stupid has occurred. For me though, at this stage in my young adulthood, that saying is more than just comedic relief. It is more of a piercing cry that fails to be heard, that falls short of comprehension and fully embodies my frustration since I graduated last May. The frustration of being underemployed, the frustration of not even receiving a single call back, the anger of being rejected constantly, the sheer confusion at watching lesser qualified (or seemingly inept) people filling a job I could do (how the hell do you not know that MD stands for Maryland? That’s third grade stuff!). The aggravation of real life bill paying, dealing with shiesty bank corporation dealings. The list is terribly long.
My wanting to get away is to escape the frustration associated with my current situation in Portland. My desire to just be done with everything and start anew. Pull some Jason Bourne-esque stuff and drop off the grid and go to India, except without the going to India bit. That is why my trip this Cinco de Mayo up to Seattle is my escape, my get-away. My chance to cut ties and go to a place to get where I can feel unshackled, untethered and enjoy myself. No insult to my city, but I’ve grown tired of you. Least I can enjoy myself tonight on this great escape.
The only problem is is that you’ll always be found. Somehow, some way, you will always be found and return to where you came.