So, on Friday I realized something: this is my last full week before I leave the US. Not cool!
Let’s get something straight. I am totally aware of what an amazing opportunity this is, and how fortunate I am, and all of that. I really do. I wouldn’t have worked so hard on my application and campus interview and all of that if I didn’t know all of those things. But here’s the other thing: I don’t do change well. I pretend to, but I don’t really, especially when the change is “leaving home”. I was the ten-year-old who cried during the fifth-grade overnight field trip. I judge dates based on whether or not I would have had a better time at home watching Haven with my parents. So when I have to leave, even for something I’m looking forward to, I get sad and anxious. My brain starts going This is your last Tuesday at home, this is the last time you’re going to hang out with your mom for-EVER!And while normally I can say, “Shut up, brain, you’re being a jerk,” the end result is that in the immediate lead-up to a big move, I’m not excited. Not a bit. I can do a decent fake excitement—cue the happy toothpaste smile, “It’s gonna be so great!”—but inside, I’m just “meh”.
I’ve decided to accept that this is just my process. I’m excited, until I realize that it’s happening really soon, and then I’m not excited again until the plane is about to land. By and large, it works for me. Besides, there will be plenty of time for freaking out over how awesome everything is once I actually get there: baked goods! Architecture! Baby cuddles! It’ll be fabulous…eventually.