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Time is a funny thing, and my fear of commitment and I obsess over it.
I once thought that the eight months I spent stuck in LA, unemployed, waiting for my expensive lease to finish so I could flee that city that was never, ever good to me, were the longest of my life. I spent whole days watching the clock, waiting. In time, a solution would come.
It eventually did, the second I threw everything into storage and boarded a flight to Costa Rica, for what Ithought would be a month or three.
There, time seemed to pass even more slowly than it did during my awful year in Los Angeles – but it was different. In the sleepy heat of the tropics, I was always busy, but time didn’t seem to fly by like it always did when I was in NYC or Las Vegas working the hours of a CEO yet barely scraping by. Yoga, running with the dogs, working four hours a day (not 12!), studying, watching the sunset with friends…
