One week to go
It’s about a week until I go. You see, in theory, I should have something heartfelt and sincere to say. Perhaps a few final thoughts I care to leave behind? A legacy? A farewell? [Wait, I’m not dying].
But I don’t. I’ve got nothing.
I’m still working… being a nurse and all, saving every $ I can so that I can fit some adventures in during my Peace Corps service. I’ve packed, but only because I moved out of my apartment in October. When I moved, I got rid of all the things I didn’t want to keep. I haven’t done a lot to the house other than make it stronger to weather any particular storm. I’m doing a lot of overnight camping and hiking/backpacking. I’m crashing with friends. Molly and Lucy are in charge, so to speak. I essentially bought a house for the cats. They even have their own expense account so their new caretakers can provide for them like I have.
I have always been more on the private side; careful of what I say out loud, or in this case, put in print. Truth be told, I have very little that I care to say out loud. I, alone, am privy to my thoughts, as they are rapidly changing and I can’t seem to keep up.
Thoughts
I’m nervous. Of course I’m nervous. No matter how much I try to prepare, it’s still the unknown. I’m scared. Of course I’m scared. Even though I’ve done some version of this before, this is a unique period in my life. I’m excited, thrilled even. I know of no one in my family, friends, or even acquaintances who has been a Peace Corps volunteer. In many ways, this is everything I’ve always wanted. And in many others, it’s nothing I ever expected.
Of course, I’m saying this now, before I’ve even begun. What will I say when I am two weeks into training? How will I feel? Will I be as self-assured as I imagine I will be? Or will I be as the other PCV’s (Peace Corps Volunteer) say; wondering what on earth possessed me to do such a thing?
How can I, now, at this very moment, possibly make a statement? There is so much I don’t know. How am I to predict how I’ll feel in the coming weeks and months, when I can’t even get a firm grasp on how I feel right now? My mind is a chaotic whirl. I’m busy preparing for my departure, anticipating my arrival, and trying to juggle work and spending time with friends in between. Everything has been moving so fast, and in these next final weeks, they’ll only continue to speed up.
I’m working through February 20. My birthday is February 24, and I leave for staging on the 25th. I have a to-do list at least a mile long. I’ve essentially got to set up my life for two years so that someone else can manage it. I’ve got to get what’s need to apply to graduate school for when I return. I need all those addresses and phone numbers now. I’ve got to get friends to download WHATSAPP, and before I know it, it will be February 25.
2/25.
D-Day.
My world will likely be flipped upside down in ways that I never saw coming. I will say goodbye to my home, my friends, my kitties, and my family. I’ll give up the creature comforts that I knowingly take for granted. And I’ll bid farewell to a community for whom my appreciation came unexpectedly.
But these are the thoughts running through my head. Every time I get in my car and drive around the country. When I am in a store looking for something I *need* for Madagascar. When I sit in my house and look around and think, ‘we’ve only just begun.’ I’ve had my house for a total of four months and yet it’s already filled with me. At night, with Lucy curled at my feet, and Molly by my side, I stare at my ceiling and convince myself to stay calm…
Because I wanted this. I wanted the uncertainty. The fear. The unknown. 18 months ago, I decided I was ready to give up what I know in exchange for the adventure of a lifetime. The world is mine and my future belongs to me. The Peace Corps will test me, push me to my limits, and force me to rise above. I will grow and I will change. I will not be the same person I was when I started, but I look forward to meeting her in the end.
Bring it on.