For a few months now, I've been flirting around with the idea of making some travel plans near summer's end. And I've been procrastinating. I'm one of those people who loves the *reality* of travel, but becomes completely unhinged during the planning process.
Today, I booked the flight and, predictably, I totally lost my shit. There's really no reason for it. The timing of the flight is absolutely perfect. I've arranged for Princess Fur's care. My assistant will subbing my classes. Everything is in place.
And yet, I’m so very vata this evening, I can’t even sit still and read a book! So I'm chopping vegetables and cleaning the floors, trying to dissipate some of this nervous energy. A part of me very much wants to start packing, but my departure date is a month away.
This freakout will likely continue with ebbs and flows until the day I leave. Then, I'll get up, catch the bus to the airport, find my seat on the plane and be happy-as-a-clam and cool-as-a-cucumber for the duration of the flight, the trip and the return.
Then I'll get home again and freak out because I'm not travelling.
I'm so weird.
Photo theme of the day: 'Mirror'
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