My flat is a mess. The reason for this is that I am moving out in a week. The reason for that is because I am about to head off traveling overseas, to see the world, or at least the northern european part of it. This last two weeks is a madness of rushing and packing and arranging, on the off-chance that I wont be back, at least not for a while, and possibly not for a long time. But, the plans are coming together, and often with such ease that I am astounded. Of course I’ll just be able to go overseas. Of course that job would come up at the right time. Of course my lease ends just days before I go. Of course I can have a year off work if maybe it all works out. Of course they’ll hold the promotion for me if I get it while I’m gone.
Its madness. A crazy insane rushing madness of packing up my life, and packing it down to a suitcase, and a carry-on bag. I can feel the weight of everyone hoping it’ll work out for me, in thier excited tales of their own travels, in their wanting to see me just-in-case-you-don’t-come-back. And it’s so hard to get everything done, arranged and perfect, on just this slim possibilty that seems almost inevitable.
I notice the planes more, as they take off over my apartment. Each one counting down til it’s my turn. It’ll seem strange for the few nights I’m at my parents house before I leave, to not have this constant visual and auditory reminder of travel, to be without this proximity to the planes, and the connection to the world beyond this city. I watch them take off in perfect winter skies. Every morning has been a sun-shiney spectacular, as the city seeks to ingrain itself on my mind, reminding me that its this place that I come from, and this place I’ll return to, with adventures in the middle.