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It's That Time Again

This time tomorrow, I'll be over the Atlantic Ocean.

I've already written about my feelings when it gets this close to going home.

I've already written about hugging my nephews.

I'm sitting here and trying to come up with a pithy entry. Something that will make you think during the next few days that I won't be updating the site. Something to keep you entertained. Something to keep you busy.

But all my thoughts fail me.

This is about the time when my feelings have completely taken over everything else. I go through my daily motions and do what I need to, but the whole time there's this loud voice inside my head and all it says is:

"You're going home!"

It's not quiet. It's yelling. It's not subtle. It's a continuous loop. It's there during all my waking hours. It even creeps into my dreams.

I've packed all my presents, Jake's clothes, my clothes, 4 library books on education, Derek's book into a piece of luggage. Add to that a bag pack full of printouts on education reform, Trail Fever by Michael Lewis, The Language Instinct by Pinker, my laptop and my Japanese homework and our passports and tickets. We're set to go!

All this for nine days.

I hate packing. I want to take everything with me. All my books. My cameras. My laptop. More clothes than I could wear in a month. Mostly cause I hate to have to choose. I want it all so I don't need to make any decisions. What if I finish all six books in one day and I have nothing left for the rest of the week. That's what I think. Even after the last eleven trips where I barely finished a book, I take six with me just in case.

Just in case what? Your guess is as good as mine.

I simply suck at packing.

I apologize for the lack of depth in this post. But the voice in my head won't let me do anything. All it can think of is lying on the couch in our balcony, playing with my nephews. Hugging my nephews. Hugging my nephews. Hugging my nephews.

My mom, my dad, my sister, my brother in law, my grandmas. But most importantly, my nephews.

See? This is why I should stop writing now!

I promise to have something much deeper to say as soon as I arrive in Burgaz.

Btw, I am in the process of putting together a new idea and I need volunteers. If you're interested email me.

Previously? Courage and Fear.


August 23, 2001 | previous | family | share[]
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