Last night at dinner I sat down with tears in my eyes and hoped no one would notice. Michael, my brother-in-law, asked me from across the table if I was alright. I said yes and looked away but the tears still fell. A lot. I started crying, and when I looked up, my sister was crying as well. This is so hard.
Tonight at dinner was a different story though. Everyone was eating and during the silence I broke out in laughter. My family stared at me and wanted to know what was so funny. I told them I was picturing myself refusing to get out of the car at the airport, missing my flight, cancelling my "plans" and coming back home forever. This was a really funny scenario in my head...until I realized I could actually do that. Unpacking my bags wouldn't be near as hard as packing them, and then I could stay in my comfort zone! I didn't let myself dwell on this past two seconds, otherwise I might do it.
This feeling is like none I've ever experienced. I'm not going three hours away to college or even just a few states over to work at camp. Nope. I'm flying 4,759 miles to an unfamiliar country with no place to live and no job lined up. I don't feel adventurous right now. I feel weird.
1) I packed too much. My bags are heavy, and I don't know how I'm going to cart them around for two weeks until I get settled.
2) I wish they had Dr. Pepper in the UK.
3) How cold is it actually going to be in England?
4) I'm tired but know I won't be able to fall asleep.
5) I didn't pack enough. What am I forgetting that will pop in my head while sitting on the runway?