Environment is everything.

I moved home about two weeks ago. Back to the hometown I grew up in, into the house I wrote my college applications, where the backyard still scares me at night. (Its dark! And huge! And empty! And clowns!)

I’ve been here for two weeks and I feel like I’ve lost a muse. Its nothing personal to the house or the people, but I just never feel inspired in the suburbs. I’ve had the best memories in this house. But there’s something about the hometown feel that screams procrastination and laziness.

I spent 10 months in Jersey City. I did a lot in those ten months. I put myself out there — joined sports teams, took an art class, quit my job, made a mini web series, even started this blog. Now, I know I’ve only been home for a week, so I need to give myself time. But a week of doing nothing is a week of wasted time.

On Monday, I was bored. It was that heavy, unceasing feeling of boredom. You know when you’re so bored that no matter what activity you come up with, you are still saddened with disappointment. Like nothing you do will be entertaining or satisfying? I had that feeling that I was never going to be entertained and the boredom will never go away.

My sister asked me, “what would you be doing if you were in Jersey City?” I quickly listed off a bunch of things I did when I wasn’t working, “You know… painting, riding my bike, going to happy hour, reading, drinking coffee at a cafe, watching TV.” She replied with a shocking realization, “We can do all of those things here too, Jill.” But for some reason none of the activities were exciting in Paramus.

The city I was in challenged me. It made me want to do stuff. My hometown makes me want to sleep and lay. I can’t exactly figure out why. Is it the lack of transportation? Is it the fact that I need to get into a car to do anything in the suburbs? Whereas in the city, I can walk outside and have access to essentially anything I needed or wanted to do? Is it the fact that my house isn’t my own space, but a shared space? Its not my place to entertain, but a place to ask for permission? Or am I simply falling into a slothful slumber? Suddenly my creativity and confidence were left behind in my apartment.

Or maybe its sitting in one of the boxes I have yet to unpack. Its time to find some hometown flair.

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