Quarter-life Crisis, or What Am I To Do Now?

I've recently learned that Tito Chino's wife is going to New York City to work. She'd been hired by...an accounting firm, I guess (I didn't get the details) and she'll be leaving on the fourth of February. She already has an apartment in, if I'm not mistaken, Manhattan, and once she's settled in my uncle will follow.

This is great news for them, since I think they're potential is wasted here.  Hey, they are two of the most patriotic people I know, but when there are dreams to reach and mouths to feed, and you have opportunity like this knocking on your door, the only thing to do is to answer.


So anyway, my uncle said I should try and look for a job abroad myself. He knows about my self-imposed deadline--I must have a house by the time I turn 25--and understands that reaching that goal while working just a regular nine-to-five (or in my case, nine-to-six) job here is next to impossible. He asked me to think about applying for a job either in Japan, where one of my bestPREnds currently reside, or in New York, where his wife and he would inevitably live.

Daydreamer that I am, images of me walking around wearing jeans and a tshirt,  a trench coat, a scarf and DMs, probably lost in a street filled with a bustling crowd going in the opposite direction; started distracting me during quiet moments: while riding the bus to work, hanging on for dear life standing inside the train, or sitting by myself at home and sipping some tea. It's unclear why these images keep popping up. I've never particularly desired working abroad--travel, yes, but not work.

I reasoned it might be because the probability of me ever being able to go to New York or Japan, for travelling's sake or otherwise, has just been raised by at least 1 percent.  (I'm only guessing of course. I've no idea what the odds actually are.)

More to the point, the idea, or, okay, hope, of going overseas has perhaps made me rethink my life. Again. See, I've always craved independence. Even as a kid I've wondered how it would be to live apart from my parents; to worry about the things for which I've never given a moment's notice, to be in charge of every single detail of my life and pray that I'm doing good job of it.  This is not to say that I hate my life here and can't wait to get away. I have a pleasant life, I may not be wealthy, or particularly exceptional, but I wouldn't exchange it for anyone's. Once in a while though, I wonder if I could make it better. Of course all of my old insecurites are still here, nagging at me, their voices louder than ever, which does NOT help.  I've been praying about it, and have discussed it with people I acknowledge to be wise, but they can only give advice. I'm still the one who has to decide whether I should bet and roll the dice, else walk swiftly away.

So, I'm once again in a crisis: stuck between what is and what could be, and scared witless.