I have 18 and a half hours before my flight and I still refuse to clean up the mess that I have created a week ago. Packing is definitely the hardest leg of the preparation. It takes a lot out of you, physically and emotionally.
As I run up and down the stairs to figure out which clothes to bring, try on one shoe after another in order to decide which to pack and shuffle papers one after the other to make sure that I have all important documents with me, I realize that, once I'm there, I can’t just pick up a phone and make a phone call for someone to look after me and save me from the distress that I know I’m going to experience in Oxford for the first couple of weeks. I'm totally going to be roughing it up by myself. I'm lucky to know people in the program but really, in the end, this is ALL me. This trip is MY trip and this experience is MY experience. I’m the one who’s going to do what I have to do in order to ensure that I am not going to lose myself and my priorities while I was there.
I honestly feel like this is a sabbatical, a break from the usual humdrum of my life even if really, this is a study abroad program in one of the most notable universities in the world. This is the first time, in a long time, that I’m going completely clueless. Clueless, not only to how things are going to be when I'm there, but also as to how my life is going to be right after. Usually, I have a general idea but right now, all I’m thinking about is surviving Oxford and making the most out of the trip. I can do this. I know I can. I can rely on the fact that I never let myself go completely down the drain. At least, so far, I haven’t and I don’t plan on Oxford being the beginning of a downward spiral.
So I’m going to finish packing, eventually. I’m going to do this. I’m got to get over it. And I’m going to post another entry before I leave tomorrow, hopefully.
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