60 Months to the World

At 508 pounds, I can barely wander from my couch. I want to wander the world.

Charlotte’s Web, October 2017. I’m trying to figure out a fat joke involving myself and the word pig, but I figure I should be kind to myself.

One of my favorite books is Gayle Forman’s Just One Day. In a lot of ways, it feels like the adventure I should have had after high school.

The main character, Allyson, ditches a Royal Shakespeare outing to watch a street troupe perform. She becomes enamored with one of the actors and, through a bit of blind luck, runs in to him on her way home, where he persuades her to take a trip to Paris. They spend a whirlwind day together in Paris. A magical day. Just one day.

That book is how I imagined spending my 20s. I was supposed to be unattached, a free spirit, full of wanderlust, imbued with an adventurous spirit. I didn’t have responsibilities or anybody to stay behind for. I could just go.

Me and Laurie Halse Anderson, 2017. Despite how horrible I look, this was actually a very good day; a dream come true.

Unfortunately, that adventurous spirit didn’t infect my wallet with money. And Wanderlust + Poverty = Depression. Me + Depression = Eating more + Moving less.

And we all know what that equals. I couldn’t be an adventurous soul if I wanted to, now.

But you know that I’m trying to change…