I have been so overwhelmed for the past couple of weeks? months? years? eh, lost count.
So I am doing something utterly selfish this weekend. And I refuse to feel guilty about it. (I am lying; I totally feel guilty)
I am going to New York for the weekend.
Don’t @ me.
You don’t have to, I promise.
My first trip to the Big Apple will be tainted with a global pandemic.
But sometimes mental health must be prioritized; I need a refresh. I need adventure. I need inspiration. I need to feel the fear of new places, people, smells and surroundings.
I am dying without it.
And so I go.