The Quarter-life Crisis

I recently experienced a quarter-life crisis. After graduating from college, I realized, that for the first time in my life, I didn't know what to do next. I wasn't exactly sure what I could do. So I began thinking about my immediate wants: go south, live in another country, learn Spanish, and satisfy my self-centered need to fulfill a sense of purpose (we all know there is no such thing as altruism). So I planned to head south. I just didn't know when, or where, or what I would do when I got there. Then one day, when I was feeling particularly crisis-ridden, I received an unexpected phone call from a woman who told me to move to Honduras to teach the third grade.

Her name was Rebecca and she was a Peace Corp volunteer who was working with a bilingual school in San Marcos de Copán. I had completely forgotten that in a frantic attempt to get the hell out of Eugene, I had sent out resumes across the globe, which included a bilingual school in Honduras. They would pay me 6,000 lempira a month (about $300 US) and pay for my ticket there and back. Sold. If you buy my ticket, I'll go just about anywhere. They wanted me there immediately. So without much premeditation, I decided I was moving to Honduras, quit my job, moved out of my house and left the country, all within the month of August. Perhaps a bit rash, but I have never been much of a planner.