Back from Chicago/Hillsdale and busy getting packed and ready to leave for ITALY… lots of intimidating thoughts on the verge of embarking on such a big adventure, but I’m trying to keep smiling.
In the future, check my photos page (there is a link above too) for pictoral updates!
Leaving for Chicago tomorrow earrrrly in the morning and I’m very excited because it means a weekend full of seeing folks I haven’t seen in far too long. This is my last day of work at Cherokee Family Practice, but for some reason it doesn’t feel very different. Probably because they’ll find some way to drag me back here in the end . . . 
The only plans I have for next week (I’ll be back in GA by Monday) are packing, packing and more packing. And perhaps a little babysitting on the side for some extra $$$. And then the scariness really begins . . . I suppose an event like this is just one of the many things in life that builds up so much excitement and anticipation that you can’t help but feel that anything beyond it is a black hole. Of course, I have imagined what it will be like in Italy (just like I might imagine what married life would be like, or what it would be like to have children, or what I’ll be like when I’m 60…) but it comes to a point in my mind where I really just have absolutely no clue what to expect. I guess the best thing to do… expect the unexpected. 🙂
Well, I was going to rant and rave about the idiotic, socialistic and communistic aspects of the public school system in America, but after 10 straight minutes of the phone ringing off the hook at the office, I seem to have lost the will to do so. Don’t worry, it will come back, on topics such as these I am easily incensed.
On a lighter note, I have a mere 10 days until I leave for Chicago/Hillsdale. And only 19 until I leave for Italy. Now it’s really time to panic.
Now here’s a scary thought . . . .
I turn 20 in less than 15 days.
Years ago, this used to be the age that, once attained, meant almost full and complete grownupness (everyone knows that’s a real word–and there’s no hyphen between grownup…all one word…say it real fast). Now it just means that I have more to worry about, more to be held responsible for, and less time to daydream about it. At the ripe age of 7, playtime often involved fantastical plots of what life would be like when I was “grownup” (you know….18, 19, 20–because for an 8-year-old that is pretty much an adult). These storylines ran along the lines of “A Day At College–Where Margaret Will be Cool and Popular” or “A Day at Margaret’s Cool Adult Job” or even “Playing House Like Barbie and Ken — The Saga Continues”. Not to say that those little games were completely unrealistic, (because everyone knows I’m as cool and popular as you get) but you really have to take things with a grain of salt–a rather hefty grain–once you hit 18 years. There are still some things that I’m not grownup enough for–like living in my own home/apartment, having a full time job, buying alcohol, moving to Guam….but that’s really okay. I’ve decided now is the time to savour the fact that, at least for a little while longer, I’m too young. ‘Cause before I know it, I might be too old.
