8 weeks. 10 bottles of wine. 37 takeouts. 20 extra pounds. And more island highballs than I can count.

Nights of too many Jägerbombs, waking up with cereal in my hair. Ridiculous nights at O’Bar, nO’Bar, where’s-my-hO’me Bar. Messy room, moldy clothes, a view of the parking lot. That was it. I was over it. I didn’t come here to rewind ten years and live like a teenager. I’m 27 now, and it’s time to focus on why I came here in the first place. Time to grow up, honey.

Don’t get me wrong — I had fun. It felt like college all over again: flying free with no one telling me what to do, no one to boss me around. No obligations, no responsibilities beyond showing up for work and paying rent on time.

Work, sleep, eat, drink, repeat. No wonder I gained those 20 extra pounds. In the service industry, late nights come with the territory. A drink after work to cool down, then after six days straight on the job, that one fabulous day off — and its thirst. A chance to let loose, make memories, and put new stories on the wall. And as someone trying to make friends, what better way than to spend money and time on food and wine? (Okay, maybe too much wine. Do I drink too much?)

But here’s the thing: I didn’t come here to party my life away. I came to grow, to learn, to finally do things on my own. I have a list of goals, and I can’t leave this island without checking them off.

So hello, September — bring on your wisdom. Two months of “adaptation” was more than enough. After surviving a moldy AC room that gave me a nasty cough, I finally found the perfect condo by the beach. Call it luck, but really it’s the fruit of determination and hard work. I got what I wanted, again.

And timing couldn’t be better: Jo, my ex-coworker from Whistler, arrives this month to share this beautiful two-bedroom, two-bathroom unit. Now I’ll stock the fridge with fresh food and start cooking again. I’ll read the news in the morning on the beach with a familiar face. Sip Pinot Grigio after work on the balcony, watching the moon rise over the sea. Go to yoga at the studio next door. Swim in the mornings in my backyard ocean. Study my Advanced Open Water manual with a frozen margarita at the swim-up bar. Ya man.

It’s taken time to adjust — to decide whether I wanted to make this place my own. Different crowd, different air, different vibe. But now that I’ve left those rookie days behind, expanded my circle, and started leaning into healthier habits for body and mind, I look around and think… hey, island life for a while? Why not.