Last night was the first night I started to get a bit emotional about my upcoming move. My mom keeps reminding me that if anything happens, it’ll take her at least a day to get to me, and that is a sobering fact for someone who is as clumsy as I am.
As she was outside hanging out with friends, I sat inside listening to her laughing while rummaging through my closet deciding which items I’m going to be packing into my carry on and suitcase for the next year of my life. “You’re not going to take more than one suitcase with you?” she keeps asking. “Maybe you should take another one with you. I’ll pay for the second bag.” But, I keep insisting that I don’t need that much. I don’t need the ten sweaters I laid out last night, nor do I need all six of the dresses and ten pairs of shoes because anyone who knows me knows that my first stop when I touchdown in Europe is Topshop.
As I placed items on the floor to decide which would stay and which would go, I started to tear up at the fact that in three short weeks, I’ll be in a new bedroom, in a new city, starting a new job, with all new people. Nothing will be familiar. Nothing will be routine. Nothing will be the same.
However, I feel pretty lucky for already receiving all of my paperwork before a lot of the other assistants in the program. I feel lucky that I’ve connected with a fair amount of people who will be in the same region and even have started talking with a girl who will be in the same small village.
I’m so ready for this next journey and to see where this path in life with take me. I hope you come along with me. I hope you hold my hand through the anxieties, the laughter, the adventures, and (I’m sure!) the breakdowns.