Tomorrow
Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god.
I am leaving tomorrow. Less than 24 hours, if you want to get technical. I didn't think I would get this feeling until I got on the plane. But no. There I was, driving home from Circuit City (spending yet more money) and, oh yeah, I know that feeling.
It's a good thing, this vaguely nauseating rock that has formed inside my stomach. This is not real fear. There's nothing to be scared of. This is. I don't know what this is.
This is the moment on the roller coaster when, after climbing every single foot of the highest incline (very, very, slowly) you're about to hurtle back down. This is the reason you got on the roller coaster to begin with. Doesn't mean you're not terrified. I've seen people get off those roller coasters though, and they can't wait to get back on. Except me. I hate roller coasters.
Don't tell me I'll be fine. Don't tell me it'll be a great experience. I know all that. I believe all that. I'm excited.
And honestly, I hope everyone feels like this sometimes. This feeling has preceded all the fabulous things I've ever done. This feeling means I'm doing something right.
I'm as ready as I'll ever be. By which I mean, the plane takes off at 5:35 tomorrow night, whether I'm on it or not, and I plan to be on it.
In the meantime, ACK. And I'm taking it out on my poor mother, who didn't want me to go in the first place. And she's finally come to terms with the fact that I'm going, and is trying to be nice, and I would appreciate it except for the fact that I'm too busy being a snotty brat.
Anyway, i had lots more to say, like about how when people tell me they're going to miss me, I feel guilty and apologize, instead of the normal (and accurate) response that I'll miss them, too. Because I feel like they're all thinking, "If you were REALLY going to miss us, you wouldn't go."
But now I need to go pick up dinner (I requested pizza, and then bratted about what kind and from where, as if this were my last meal EVER and couldn't people please just do EXACTLY what I say for once?) with my mother, and try to make up for my obnoxiousness.
And I'm not sure what the point of this post was. But I gotta go.
I am leaving tomorrow. Less than 24 hours, if you want to get technical. I didn't think I would get this feeling until I got on the plane. But no. There I was, driving home from Circuit City (spending yet more money) and, oh yeah, I know that feeling.
It's a good thing, this vaguely nauseating rock that has formed inside my stomach. This is not real fear. There's nothing to be scared of. This is. I don't know what this is.
This is the moment on the roller coaster when, after climbing every single foot of the highest incline (very, very, slowly) you're about to hurtle back down. This is the reason you got on the roller coaster to begin with. Doesn't mean you're not terrified. I've seen people get off those roller coasters though, and they can't wait to get back on. Except me. I hate roller coasters.
Don't tell me I'll be fine. Don't tell me it'll be a great experience. I know all that. I believe all that. I'm excited.
And honestly, I hope everyone feels like this sometimes. This feeling has preceded all the fabulous things I've ever done. This feeling means I'm doing something right.
I'm as ready as I'll ever be. By which I mean, the plane takes off at 5:35 tomorrow night, whether I'm on it or not, and I plan to be on it.
In the meantime, ACK. And I'm taking it out on my poor mother, who didn't want me to go in the first place. And she's finally come to terms with the fact that I'm going, and is trying to be nice, and I would appreciate it except for the fact that I'm too busy being a snotty brat.
Anyway, i had lots more to say, like about how when people tell me they're going to miss me, I feel guilty and apologize, instead of the normal (and accurate) response that I'll miss them, too. Because I feel like they're all thinking, "If you were REALLY going to miss us, you wouldn't go."
But now I need to go pick up dinner (I requested pizza, and then bratted about what kind and from where, as if this were my last meal EVER and couldn't people please just do EXACTLY what I say for once?) with my mother, and try to make up for my obnoxiousness.
And I'm not sure what the point of this post was. But I gotta go.
posted by Noames at 6:27 PM
10 Comments:
Have a safe trip!! I can't wait to hear all about it!!!!!!
Happy trails to you
Until we meet again
Happy trails to you
Have an amazing time and please keep us updated on all your outstanding adventures.
Have an amazing time and please keep us updated on all your outstanding adventures.
If you were really going to miss us, we would still want you to go.
I'm excited!!! Just don't leave us hanging for too long. You probably won't even see this post for weeks. (Do they have electricity in Africa?)
Go get 'em.
Bon Voyage!
Have a great time and do well and do good.
Sorry I had to cut our conversation short yesterday. I for one, won't make you feel guilty for going, since as you said, we'll actually be closer now. And I might get to visit.
I totally understand about the knot thing and the snotty brat thing. I'm quite the master at the latter every time I leave.
It's funny; I kinda pictured your family all sitting around with India House takeout as they sent you off. I guess pizza isn't too far off... (So where was the pizza from, anyway?)
Anyway, as we told you before you went to France back in the day, "Good riddance to you!"
Have a safe flight! We'll talk when you arrive in my hemisphere.
The funny thing is, P and I were having a chat about that sort of feeling last night. I said that the way I see it, if you want to do it but it scares you, that usually means you should do it. (That's clearly your take on the matter, too.)
Certainly when I've had that feeling and followed through with something, it's usually turned out to be a great decision. I actually can't remember a time when I thought that it wasn't the right decision.
Speaking of which . . . I finally have a couple of exciting research projects about to go under way!
So . . . anyway, I know the feeling.
Bon voyage et bonne chance!
Nanga def! GOOD LUCK. You will be so glad you went. It's one of my regrets that when I was your age, I didn't. Now go running towards it.
I signed up for my first marathon when a friend asked if I was going to sit in a rocking chair when I was 80 and wonder what would have happened if I had run a marathon. You, Ms., won't have to wonder "what if" -- you're doing it. Live strong.
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