Y’all I’m starting to stress out a little. I’ve been looking up packing lists, and reading other volunteers blogs about their experiences, and thinking about my complete lack of French and also money…and it’s all starting to make me a little nauseous.
I also had a moment last weekend while napping with this little a-hole:
and I could’t for the life of me remember why I ever wanted to leave here in the first place! Then Monday morning came around and it all came rushing back.
But the thing about the awfulness of my job is, even though it makes me want to stab myself in the thigh repeatedly, at least it’s familiar. Its comfortable. There are very few surprises, and even fewer awkward moments.
And people, I HATE awkward moments. I hate feeling unsure of myself, and my surroundings, and the people I’m with. And now I’ve chosen to join a program WHERE MY LIFE IS GUARANTEED TO BE AWKWARD FOR AT LEAST SIX MONTHS? I mean, I just have to put aside for the time being the ramifications of leaving my friends and family for two years, and the concept of living among a dying population. I do realize that it’s an incredibly privileged position I’m in, to be able to be so concerned about awkwardness in a place where many other people are concerned with things like SURVIVING. But sitting here in Seattle, WA, I think that’s about all I can wrap my head around.
Deep down I feel that I can do this, and I still don’t doubt my decision to join the Peace Corps. I think, though, that this enforced period of purgatory before my departure is harder than I had expected it to be. It’s too soon for me to know where I’m going, which means it’s too soon for me to do any meaningful preparation. I keep looking up random information on the internet, some of which is helpful—Hey! They speak French in Madagascar! Didn’t know that!—some of which is not helpful—Hey. Isn’t Madagascar where those ridiculously large cockroaches come form?
I’m trying to talk about this stuff as much as I can with my friends (lucky, lucky people!) because I think it helps to get it out. And I have to say, one of the advantages of this type of situation is the perspective it gives me. People, I have found a whole new world of things to be nostalgic about–WHILE I AM DOING THEM! Last night I went to the Fremont Library (which is really more like a little house with about 17 books in it–cute as a button and almost as big!) and all I could think of was how much I’m going to miss the public library system. I mean, how awesome is that you can go to a place and TAKE AS MANY BOOKS AS YOU WANT FOR FREE? It’s downright communistic.
And America’s Next Top Model, which started again last night. Wow. I mean, I’ve always loved it, but I feel like I’m really enjoying it this time around. I can’t take Tyra’s antics for granted because there will come a time when she is just a memory, and a weird one at that. So will drinking slightly more wine that is appropriate on a Wednesday night with The Lovely Miss Q. She’s crazy, yo.
So I suppose this time in my life could best be described by ol’ Chuck Dickens. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was the time to hijack great works of literature and use them in a flighty manner so as not to have to come up with unique or imaginative commentary on one’s own. And also it was the time to use italics so as to create a pretense of sophistication and stuff. You know, I was an English minor.
I have to say that I also have a ridiculous case of senior-itis, about 4 months too soon. Which sucks because no matter how much work may make me want to stab myself in the thigh over and over with a dull pencil, I know that I can’t because there are large animals in Africa, and I think I’d better be able to run.