The Final Countdown.
Seven days. Seven days until I board a plane in SeaTac and fly to Deutschland. People keep asking me if I am excited. Well, duh. Of course I am! Moving to a foreign country for a year isn’t exactly something done on a whim (at least, not by most people). The planning and preparation that comes beforehand? Got it covered. I am Queen of Planning and Organizing. The actual packing, boarding the plane, and leaving? The uprooting of everything? That’s a little more difficult. People keep asking me if I am nervous. Well, duh. As titillated as I am, I am also just as trepidatious. It’s a dizzying mixture of “Ohmigod, I’m moving to Germany!!!!” and “Ohmigod. I’m moving to Germany.”
I haven’t exactly started packing, yet. I’ve spent the last two days going through my things, sorting them into three piles. Pile one: Stuff That I Cannot Possibly Live Without, Oh My Gosh No. Pile two: Why Do I Even Own This Sh*t? Pile 3: I Want This, But It Won’t Fit In My Suitcase; Therefore, Tell Boyfriend To Ship Later. (See? I told you I am organized.) Pile one is already distressingly large, considering that I’ve yet to put any clothes in it. Or shoes. I suppose there is only so much predicting one can do about what will be useful for a year abroad, but that pesky little (well, major) part of my personality that frets about such things is not convinced. Must. Plan. Must. Prepare!
I haven’t figured out a good way to transition between thoughts in blog posts, yet. Whatever. Think of it as free-flowing, free thinking, freedom to write whatever I want! I just learned my Greifswald address today. It’s little things like that which make this all feel more real. Learning my address. Picking up my luggage (the handles needed to be repaired). Buying Euros from my bank. That’s when I realize: this is actually happening. And I am so freaking excited, as excited as I imagine Neil Patrick Harris was when he got to ride a unicorn.
