departure

Sacramento (airport lobby/mid-flight)
June 1, 2006

I’ve always been a nail-biter. Any chance to rip away any portion of superfluous, opaque cream-colored upper nail has always been quickly taken up. But as I look down at the now pained and bleeding cuticles on my right hand (which I have been recklessly gnawing into for the past hour) I realize that this is not similar to the eve of a big exam or job interview, this is genuine deeply felt fear?/apprehension?/Trepidation? “Terror” would seem to carry with it too negative a connotation, and thus I have employed my delete key to rid this post of it. It’s a strange feeling….. I guess I’m excited…?... or I suppose I’m more looking forward to being excited in the near future about my current self imposed situation. Current thoughts (in chronological order):

-What in the Hell am I doing?
-What have I gotten myself into?
-What in the Hell am I doing?
-Could I have squeezed out a few more going away parties?
-Two years is a long time?
-Will the Welcome back parties be nearly as good?
-I had such a good thing going?
-What in the hell am I doing?
-Damn! (sorry mom if you’re reading this, I’m freakin’ out here)

But as my plane taxis out to the runway, and I feel that awesome force of the accumulating speed of the plane flinging us into the air, I glance around and notice everyone else in suits, or with briefcases, or much other paraphernalia that screams out responsibility and habit, and I realize that I’ve been blessed with an opportunity to go experience. I’ve literally just been catapulted into a something so very new. I just pray that it is fruitful, bearable and worthwhile. Cause if not I’m truly an idiot and… I just realized I’ve now moved on to my left hand . I’m pretty damn freaked out! Sorry mom.