I know when I’ll be back again.
Give yourself five geek points if you sang along, and ten if you yelled at the screen because I used the wrong words :)
Today’s the day. I’m headed overseas for the first time in my life.
And I’m a bundle of nerves that’s so bad that each of my nerves is a bundle of nerves and each of those nerves is nearly having a nervous breakdown.
Twenty points for making sense out of that sentence.
And despite apparently having about four hours sleep last night [finally got to sleep after midnight and spontaneously woke around 4:30 AM] I am wide a-freaking-wake and jazzed worse than someone on my fictional ‘wake-up juice’ [Long story. Fans of Sara Louise will know what I’m talking about].
MeMum has done her motherly best to make sure I know all about the disasters/strife that may or may not be happening where I plan to be. And all the things that can go wrong with airplanes. I’d tell her you’re statistically more likely to die in a car crash, but she’s already terrified of travelling in cars.
I’m still going.
I have a neck pillow in my purse in case of the unlikely event that I’ll actually drop off to sleep on the flight. My estimated odds of getting some use out of the damn thing are about billions to one against. And I bought my own headphones, too. Alongside a metric butt-ton of moneys.
I’m prepared.
But I’m still nervous and anxious and vibrating worse than a wet chihuahua in a sack.
This is beyond new for me.
I’m going away. Leaving my family behind. Letting hubby cope with two kids, a dog, and a house that needs a heroic-level clean-out again.
I’m not sure they’ll cope without me.
…and I’m kind-of afraid they will…