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The next three days will be telling

I’m going over to the main island to investigate the potential of moving back there after being away—most of the time in hell—for the better part of a decade.

So far I don’t feel a thing except that I’m supposed to be ready to present myself as a winner. That’ll be a stretch because I’m admittedly at the lowest part of my professional life, borrowing money from people I love just to survive.

Then there’s the town or country debate. Do we want to be out there on the beach or in town, close to the beach but not focused on it? Should we be prudent and do a house swap where the risk is lower? (My wife pointed out by the way that it’s actually just an $800 incremental cost to live on the other island).

We’ll also have alone time…whew. We calculated that we’ve only spent three weeks exclusively together since we been together, which is 15 years ago. So that will be a long-deserved respite.

My main concern on this trip is how people will view me. I was feeling good having been in the San Francisco but have seen been crippled by depression, which I never knew could be so powerful. It’s like putting out the lights, then being forced to stand naked in the biting cold, alone. Anyway, being depressed sucks.

I will also be meeting with a professional contact. I wonder how that will go. Same with the co-working spaces I’ll check out.

I don’t know…I’m kind of over these Islands. I’m really ready to move on. Yeah the water is warm but everything else is such a struggle. Everything.

All I know is that we have to get out of this town we’re in. This trip needs to almost be magical—something needs to pick us up and show us the way, so we can come back here and swoop up our kids. They need it more than us.