So I quit my 9 to 5, packed up my shit

So I quit my 9 to 5, packed up my shit and moved to Bali five weeks after landing back home from my trip in July. It's giving fuck around and find out. I really wasn't joking when I said I had a good feeling about this year. Sometimes you just have to go for it. Less thinking, more doing. And don't get me wrong, the spontaneity came after years of being boring and locked down. The second I landed in Bali last time, I fell in love. It felt like home instantly. But I had a 9 to 5 waiting for me back home. So I went back, quit my job, tied up loose ends, spent time with my family and my people, said goodbye properly and then booked a one way flight back here. It didn't even feel real until the day actually came. And I did not expect it to hit as hard as it did. Leaving home, leaving my family. I am someone who fucks around and finds out. And I've lived away before in Dubai for six months a few years ago. But back then I had a return date. And this time it's the whole other side of the world, a full day ahead in time zone with no return. It's been overwhelming leaving my family with no set date to be back. But that is the cost of chasing the life you actually want. You sacrifice being close to the people and I'd rather try than sit there thinking. what if? I couldn't stop thinking about Bali. And it's a hard feeling to explain. It just felt like home. I kept telling everyone I'm coming back. Even before I'd figured out how. It felt like I had left a piece of myself there. I had to go back for it. If not now, then when? So let's fuck around and find out.