What made me think this was a good idea? Seriously???? What??? Almost four months in non-English speaking countries? With jungles and deserts and malaria and questionable hygiene and no pizza. What is wrong with me? I just got off the bus at 104th st in Manhattan because I was too busy reading to notice I was THIRTY BLOCKS PAST MY APARTMENT. This has never happened before. Even when I've fallen asleep on the subway I've still woken up right at my stop. In three years I've never gone past my stop. At least not on the train. Tonight I kept looking up but I really thought I was still in the 60's. I have no idea what happened...
I'm freaking out. I feel like there are squirrels doing back-flips in my stomach. Big furry squirrels, their hair squeegeeing the sides of my belly, their tiny pin-sized claws perforating my lining. I want a big fluffy blanket to clutch to my face and curl up in a middle-aged ball.
There's too much to be done; it can't possibly be all done in time. Packing, organizing, packing, organizing.
In two weeks it will be 2:16 in the afternoon on 3/06. I'll be most likely into my second hour of attempting to explore Mumbai. The first day of the rest of my life, as they say...
I can totally do this....
The Known Beautiful
- ▼ February (8)