So, I’m sitting here @ Gate G9 at the St. Paul airport in Minnesota and it’s finally hitting me that I am leaving for 3 months.
What a time for it to finally sink in…
My heart is literally pounding at a million beats per minute as I go through all the things that could possibly go wrong during my trip. I’m a worry wart, I know this, but that doesn’t make me worry any less. All my friends have told me I’ll be fine, my mom said I’ll be fine. Everyone seems to have confidence in my ability to travel to Florence by myself. I know that I can… but when flying, even domestically, there are so many things that are out of my control.
Being a control freak you can see how that’s an issue.
Now, I’m totally fine with spontaneity, I embrace it for the most part, but when it comes to travelling alone so far from home, with few ways to communicate with my mother and no ability to speak Italian, it’s a little too spontaneous for me. I know that chances are everything will go well; I will catch all my flights, I won’t lose anything, and I will find a taxi outside the airport with a driver who can understand my confusion and won’t take advantage of my naiveté as far as travelling alone is concerned. But for me, as long as those things are possible, I will worry about them. I’ll finally be able to breathe when I reach the hostel. fingers crossed I get there in one piece and don’t go into cardiac arrest from being a complete stress case.
So close, but so far away has never been so relevant.