For the first time in my life, I hate being at the airport. Usually, I have a short vacation or quick visit to friends/relatives just around the corner for me. Usually, I love watching the planes come in, watching old men argue baseball between flights, watching kids hope from black tile to black tile making sure that they don't touch the white tiles--just watching. Not this time. This time I'm not going down to Texas to see Uncle Doug and Aunt Dawn for the week. I'm not going to visit Sarah while she studies in Barcelona. I'm going halfway across the globe on a once in a lifetime trip that is just as exciting as it is terrifying, life-changing as it is a complete halt to life as I know it.
If only there WOULD have been traffic on the way in to O'Hare like my mother had warned. Then, I wouldn't have these three extra hours to stew over what's to come in this limbo that is no longer home and not yet there. What's worse, there is no way for me to get in contact with anyone else while I wait, seeing as I no longer have my phone and I don't feel like paying the ridiculous amount of $1.00/2 min for a pay-phone. So I'm left only with my thoughts of how exactly I'm going to live for the next ten months.
As the coffee kicks in and my head starts to clear, I'm wondering if the worst is behind me. The cord has been cut. There is no turning back now, since I've come too far to back down from the adventure. I still can't focus on anything else going on around me. I can only wonder what I will be like afterwards.
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