Wow...first blog in almost 4 years. I dunno why...maybe I'm just nostalgic.
In a little over 24 hours I leave for a foreign country, and I will be gone for a month. Long enough to consider it my home, at least for a bit. It's a great opportunity, one that I didn't work nearly hard enough to deserve, but that I still got through dumb luck (and a decent ability to acquire a language in a pinch). I'm getting a rather nice sum of money for free from the school to go, and it's one of the rare amounts I won't have to pay back. Travel is something I have always absolutely adored, and isn't something I will realistically have the opportunity to do very often.
So why, I wonder, is my head full of one thought: I would give anything not to go. I don't want to pack. I don't want to get on that plane tomorrow. I'm not excited, I'm scared. I mean, I guess I know why, at least a bit. But still, this is something I should be dying to get to, and it's all I can do not to wish for the power to freeze every moment so this trip can't come along.
Maybe I'm worried that something will go wrong, or that my stuff will get stolen, or I'll run out of money and starve... Maybe I'm just terrified that I won't understand a damn thing and I'll just get sent away. Maybe I'm subconsciously pissed at myself for being nervous in the first place, and it's just perpetuating an ugly cycle of self-doubt and anxiety. I wish I knew.
In the end, it doesn't matter. My tickets are bought, my passport renewed, and tomorrow afternoon, I'm getting on that plane whether I like it or not. I just hope I can convince myself to like it before then.
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