I stood at the back of the ferry watching the churning trail of water and thinking about what to do next. The boat rocked just enough to make me doubt my balance.
It’s hard to believe that only a few days ago my life seemed to be set. I’d just gotten promoted to senior manager. I’d moved into a brand new condo. From the outside, my life looked perfect. I was on the right track. The reality was far from that.
In the evening, I would come home for my perfect job to sit in my perfect condo and think about how nothing in my life felt quite right.
I’m good at distracting myself, but no number of nights out with my friends or expensive clothes could distract me from the feeling that my insides were caving in. I was empty. The world around me was drained of color until one Wednesday evening when my life became a neon dream.
There must’ve been something in the drink I ordered, at least that’s what everyone I’ve told this story to has said. It all started with a cocktail. I wanted something simple, so I ordered an old-fashioned. The bartender who gave me my drink was different than the one that I took my order. She wore pink sequence vest, and her hair was like a rainbow. She said nothing to me besides the name of my drink as she slid it across the bar.
I had no idea anything was wrong or should I say right until I finished it. I felt woozy, much woozier that I should have. I took a cab home and tried to get some sleep. When I woke up the next morning, it was as if someone had painted my apartment with neon colors. The walls were still white, but they were the brightest white I’d ever seen. My carpet was still beige, but it was a beautiful beige. Rust and green throw pillows were like fireworks on the Fourth of July. I sat on my living room floor mesmerized for a good two hours before I realized I was late for work.
As I walked out onto the city streets, each sound I heard was like music. I wandered down city streets full of color so bright that I wondered if it would burn out my eyeballs. I strolled in the office not even caring that I was three hours late. I couldn’t sit at my desk or do any work I could only see the beautiful bright colors around me and listen to the melodic sounds of footsteps down the hall, the clatter of computer keyboards, and the twittering of voices.
There was so much information going into my head that I could barely pay attention to anything else. I got up, and I walked out of my job that day. I didn’t say anything to anyone I just left. I went home, packed a bag, and got on this here ferry.
Don’t ask me where I’m going because I don’t know. I do know one thing though. I know that my insides have swelled up and no longer feel like they will cave in on themselves, that life is bigger brighter and more beautiful than I ever really realized, and that wherever this ferry takes me is the place that I need to be.