As I sit here typing this post, I am the only one that is home (if you don’t count Teddy and Misu).  The house is quiet, my parents are out, and I am here alone.  It gives me chills, waves of nausea, excitement, and sadness to think that in one week-168 hours-I will be on a flight- most likely knocked out- heading into a completely unknown place, with unknown plans and two fully stuffed, packed bags.  I will have nothing with me, yet I will also have everything with me.  I will have all of my material things.  My clothes, my shoes, my warm winter gear, my camera, computer, cell phone.  But I won’t have my family, or my friends.  I won’t have people and love and support and warmth and kindness that I have here at home.  That will come with time, I’m sure, as I find friends that eventually become my family and as I find un piso, that will eventually become my home.  Right now, thinking about the next 168 hours makes me feel sick, like I don’t want to go to sleep at night because that’s another 6-10 hours gone…vanished.  I feel like every minute counts because in 168 hours, I will be on a plane, off to a new adventure and I don’t know how long it will be until I am back, living this life that I have known for the last 24 years.  I know, I really, really know, that I am going to have an incredible time.  I always do.  I love new things, new experiences, new people, but each adventure changes me.  I feel afraid to find out what kind of changes will occur, I feel excited at the same time.  I don’t know where I was going with this post, I guess I felt like my head was spinning and writing here would help me clear it.  It has…so I am off to make Annie’s mac and cheese for dinner and sit with Teddy, who is crying outside of my door.