This. Is. My. Life.

I sit in Wisconsin, 12 hours before my 25 hour journey to Indonesia begins, reviewing the last year of my life, and contemplating the adjustments the next year will contain. 12 hours away and it still doesn't seem real. I'm forgetting something, surely (everyone drink.)

I go over my first few weeks in the last country (Albania) and wonder how this will compare:

Will I be able to get to a store in the first week to get the essentials I need?
      Why wouldn't I?
When will I get to do laundry again?
      It can't be as bad as the debacle in Albania. 3 weeks without a washer...
Will I catch onto the language?
      As long as I work at it and don't give up.
Will I make friends?
      Duh! The real question is will they be as awesome as the last group?
How long will it take to get internet working?
     It's fine. I'm taking the best book in the world with me, and living across from the school.
What will I miss?
     Lots, but that is part of this grand adventure I'm on

As I rocked my 15 month year old nephew to sleep tonight I thought to myself, "This is it. The last time you will ever do this." I cried. Then I was fine. Who am I, and how did I get here? 2 weeks ago I didn't want to leave, and now I can't wait to just get there and begin the next chapter of my life.

I gulp the last sip of my last IPA. This means it is time for bed, but my mind is finally working, realizing the adventures are just around the corner. The adrenaline flows. This. Is. My. Life.