I remember how the adrenaline made me jittery at the airport, how Ryan kept talking on and on about how excited he was about getting the hell out of Indiana.
"A whole week! We get a whole week off, I can't believe it" he had kept repeating.
I had finally seen my green suitcase rounding the corner on the luggage carousel, the black rubber mats bringing it closer and closer, when it hit me that this was my first time out of state, and I couldn't believe it was Miami that Ryan chose, of all places. It was so him, the flashy club scene, the crowded beaches. Our first dinner was in a humble little Cuban restaurant across the street from our hotel.
As I sat in my bed now, staring up at the ceiling and reminiscing on the times we had on our spontaneous expedition, I wondered what it would be like to go back one day. But it would be difficult to leave my job. In the coal mines, I get paid to pour concrete. In fact the reason we received time off, Ryan and I, was for a incident that could have taken a person's life. A hose clogged with concrete burst, sending concrete everywhere, and rattling the dig that we were in. Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing the right thing by staying at that job. Maybe I should move to Miami, that city of glamour must have bigger and better things for me. But I wonder if the people who live there can say the same?
It's funny how we found our leisure in Miami, where we didn't have to work at all. It was like a break from life and labor. Sometimes I think both are one and the same. But I find it impossible for a city to be all play and no work. I know, actually living in Miami would be completely different. Then again, I've never actually considered that people actually live there, or have family living there. You never really hear about the locals.
I immediately changed my mind. Maybe I'll just get a summer home in Miami.
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