Usually there’s way too much of it and not enough of a daily even keel. For once – holy shit – the opposite is true.
Things are eerily steady right now as I head through the autumn. This time last year I was deeply immersed in the fall, and without a proper understanding of the totally unique and different culture I was in the middle of. There was too much chaos. It’s a theme that would repeat itself for the first four or five months in Prague.
So much so, that it doesn’t feel right that things are now balanced and normal. Since leaving Canada, I’ve had to convince myself on a regular basis that everything’s cool, in spite of knowing full well that it wasn’t. Well, now, for the first time is a long time, I don’t have to do that. Everything is cool in Prague. So far, I’ve chipped away at all the negatives of the situation pretty well. All that’s left is to learn Czech.
Actually, that’s not entirely true. Money is one factor that will stir up some chaos from time to time, but I’d be pressed to find many twenty-four year olds in any part of the world that aren’t worrying about money to some degree, so it cancels itself out quite quickly against any other parallel lives I could currently be living.
Still, it just feels weird that things are normal. Not always comfortable, but normal …
It rains in Prague in October. It rains consistently and effortlessly all day long. You go to work in the morning damp and in the dark, and return home in identical conditions. It’s as if nothing has changed but your energy level. The trams get needlessly crowded on wet days, and commuters must learn to adapt to the congestion and discomfort of getting more personal with each other than comfort allows.
My biggest issue with trips like this is the wet-tram dance that goes on at each and every stop. People file past you, in and out, as if you weren’t even there. Serious concentration and keen reflexes are required to avoid being trampled and spun around like socks in a dryer every minute or so. Sometimes a draining day at work is enough to abolish one’s ability to stay focused on the dance. And when that’s the case, it’s best to just walk home.
Today, while opting to steer clear of the tram, I was silently riding the metro home from work and pondering my empty thoughts. In the middle of something particularly mundane, Bakardi Slang came on my iPod. I had to turn it up – it was too ridiculous. Then it got me to thinking.
I thought about how I’d been upset earlier this week when I realized that I don’t make enough money here. Yes, I don’t make enough money here, I’ll admit that forthright. But I’m not sure I’d be happier in Canada working a job that paid me much more. Life outside of work might seem too boring and monotonous, too easy, too comfortable, and not challenging enough on a regular basis. Head bobbing along to Bakardi Slang would be stupid, instead of enjoyable. It’s been done, they’d say.
But now? Now, there’s probably close to a 97% chance that I’m the only person on the train who has ever even heard the song before. In fact, I’d put down serious money on those odds. In Canada, the whole thing is reversed.
While I’m not arguing that a stupid thing like this is worth foregoing a better paycheck, a lot of these little stupid things over time might be. Life is as worthwhile as the enjoyment of the little things will allow, and I don’t think I’d make the trade for normal and better pay over what I have now. Not yet, anyway. It’s too fucking cool, too fucking trippy, and too fucking funny at times.
Indeed, but that time may very well come and I will likely read these words and laugh. Hell, it could happen in less than a year and I wouldn’t be too surprised. I’m internally flip-flopping on this notion and constantly coming up with contradictory attitudes. What the hell do I even want?
So … where do we go from here?