>> You’ve got a letter from a school in San Jose, Costa Rica.

But the clincher, in the end, is Murphy.

In a shock of the soul, about two months ago, I applied to an ESL school in Costa Rica. So why Costa Rica? A friend of mine once told me that he would sell his soul to live in Costa Rica. Yes. It’s true he has a scoundrel’s soul anyway and he was vacationing there, not working. And I didn’t want to go back to Ecuador. Not because I had been stabbed there but because I wanted to go some place new. Yes, the money is still in Asia. But I want to improve my Spanish. And, well, I want to go some place warm. As for teaching English. I love the students. And it is a means to, to my Personal Legend.

According to the letter, the money is better than I was expecting. It isn’t great. My problem, my biggest problem when I was in Ecuador, was that I had so much debt back home. That is less true now. I’m not going to come back a rich man but that isn’t the point. I want to be some place else. I want to see the beach, the sunrise, I want to listen to Chet in the morning, I want to feel the salty sea winds buffet me about as I put on crisp clothes in the morning, I want to change my view, I want a new world. And it’s only a six month commitment.

It might be my last chance. No, I don’t mean that I’m too old. I mean I’m altogether untethered to my present life. I have no significant ties. There is nothing to stop me.

Except one thing. Murphy. A little research and inquiry reveals that it’s not impossible to take Murph with me if I decide to go. But perhaps that’s just selfish. I want to take her with me for me not for her. Sure, it’s pleasant thinking about walking her on the beach, in Costa Rican parks, running through the South American rains. But I think she might not like it there. She is probably much more in love with my apartment, my couch, the space of rug under my feet right now than I am. Mark, my Fetcher, has expressed an interest in keeping her. But I don’t know if I can stand to be without her for six months. Mark and Murph get on well enough. He’s one of the few people that she doesn’t bark at when he comes to the door. And he lives in my building so she would walk if not sleep in all her familiar places. Still. I’d miss her terribly. For people without a dog this might be hard to understand. Making important decisions based on your dog. I suppose she’s also an emblem of stability. She’s also the singular sign of commitment in my life.

I could take some gorgeous photos in Costa Rica. They have monkeys. And six months would be just about right to fix up my Spanish and maybe even learn to salsa. But I’m torn. I don’t think I should take her. And I don’t know how I could go without her. But it would be a great thing to do. Yes. I know. I don’t take small steps. I’m drastic. But I’ve been saving up a revolt of the soul. The letter thrills me. I have so much to do.

SS