Not the same as being a tourist

One month ago today I packed up my fancy rental car, drove to Chicago and walked away from the semi-normal life I spent five years developing. At first it seemed almost glamorous, still does to some extent, but the realization of the 'on the road' lifestyle started kicking in.

At the beginning of my six week training session with Brian, I was so intrigued by my presence in unfamiliar territory, I wanted to be a full time tourist. I'm currently working in state five, California, spent the last week in Sacramento and I can't say that I have one picture to prove that I as much as entered the city limits.

After spending a full day on site and a couple hours following on planning and organizing, figuring out the most cost effective way to reach the city center and/or other main attractions was the last headache I wanted to attempt to medicate. I unconsciously conducted a count of my luggage and put Storytelling, the only movie I have in stock, into the DVD drive on my notebook computer. I was home.

The majority of days, I live at the Hampton Inn. Every state, every city, every morning it's the same breakfast and the same coffee, a strange take on the normal morning routine leaving the variation to the time I pour my first cup of the Robust Blend and the city skyline views I pass to and from client and customer visits.

I stayed on the road for the first two weeks. Towards the end of the stint, the excitement of traveling 'home' for the weekend clouded my attention to other tasks. The weekend trek to eastern standard time only came to prove my concept of 'home' as illusionary. I can use my parent's address and have stuff sent to and stored at my sister's place, but my 'home' is nonexistent.

When wondering through the overgrown retail world for entertainment purposes and time killers, I often catch myself considering the purchase of items to decorate the apartment I do not live in and to fill the closet I do not have. I have even considered ingredients for food I could not cook. Sounds pathetic, teasing myself with the 'rewards' society expects from having a real job.

Many business students expect to set up work camp in a cube following their much anticipated graduation date. I was expecting it but it was not something to which I was looking forward, the confines would only result in a strong relationship between my forehead and the sharpie decorated desktop.

I have had my doubts of working in an industry with an employee base that is over 90% male and sometimes the feeling of insecurity that goes along with the lack of solid living arrangements gets a little overwhelming but the chaos and uncertainty proves magnetic.

As the workload constantly increases and the schedule intensifies my yearning for personal freedom becomes more of a reality and my fear of living stagnate dwindles. I don't know if the real world is going to be able to handle me but it doesn't have much of a choice.