Things I am bad at: Sleeping

Yeah its two am And I’m leaving in two days cry about it. Nope, this is Not the usual panic before transitioning type of rant from me. For some reason, I’m not panicking. I’m ready,  I would go right now. But waiting is okay too, I have a few last letters to send, some phone calls to make, season 6 of how I met your mother to finish. In general though, I’m ready. I’ve been getting confused lately on how few nerves are present for me. Yeah maybe it just hasn’t hit me yet blah blah blah, but you guys know me. In the past it didn’t matter how far in advance things were, I had no problem with premature panic. Now, the Ghana train is steadily steaming towards me and I’m ready to hop on. My only theory, no I have two only theories. One is that I’ve been doing so much transitioning lately that I’m just used to it and have learned to accept it without freaking out or wanting to change it. Two is that I was so done with the past (read: traveling back in time for my job circa June to July) that I became unafraid of the future. Three (yes I have more than two) is that I’m finally implementing the long taught lesson of living in the moment. Scary things might happen, but I’ll deal with that in that moment. Things might be awkward,  but I’ll sit them out. Some people are going back to Redlands,  and I miss them, but I don’t wish I was there because I am here. And this is the only thing that is happening.  As Stephen Dedalus said, more eloquently than me, each step that we take negates all the other possible ones. So its useless to think about them, because this is what is. Fourth, and this is my romanticized option, maybe I’m ready because I’ve known for so long,  and somewhere inside me known before I even started looking, that I am one day meant to go to Africa and now its happening. Its here, and what Do you Do in the face of big things? There’s no grand gesture or sacrifice, you still are yourself And live in the daily routine. Staying up too late reading or writing or watching TV, obtaining ice cream as often as possible, finding pants (always a struggle) , painting my nails. And then there’s the fifth option Which I’m sure all you naysayers believe, which is that I’m in denial And will freak out either When leaving for the airport, on the plane, or when I set foot in Ghana. Well I don’t think its option five, because it feels very real and has felt real since I knew I was going, not when I got accepted in April, not in March When I negated the other options, not When I applied in February, not when I was planning last fall. I knew I was going last summer when I took that class. So I’ve had a lot of time to get used to the idea, with only a short period of time when I entertained the notion of anything else. So now I sleep, and then it will be two days, and then it will be one, and then I’ll be on a plane! Weeeeeee! 

Oh, perfect, I just found something I wrote a while ago that sums all This up perfectly: I used to fear the passage of time, but once everything started to fade, another fear overtook that one: the fear of time not passing at all.

I’m sure nobody can guess what thing I did for thirteen years I was thinking about when I wrote that little gem…

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