exactly one week until takeoff

"Takeoff," I say, as if I'm going to space instead of just an 8 hour flight to Glasgow.

Although I would like the record to note that I do want to be one of the first people to go on a Mars colonization mission.

One week until my plane leaves for Scotland.  I won't be back in America until early June at the earliest, mid-August at the latest.  (Unless something horrible happens.  Please God let nothing horrible happen.)

It hit me the other day that I'm actually going to be gone.  I was getting frozen yogurt with my little cousin and I realized that the next time I see her she'll be almost 9.  And my other cousin, he'll be 11 by the time I get back, there's a good chance he'll be taller than me.  And I'm not even short.

I also had a bad dream last night about my transit to Glasgow.  Well, not as bad as bad dreams go, but it was extremely anxiety-inducing.  I'm on my train to Scotland (from America...this is a dream, remember), and halfway through the trip I realize that I left all my luggage at home.  I ask the nice train manager, Sally Field, to let me off so I can go back, but it's not possible to stop a train in the middle of the Atlantic.

So I woke up stressed out with the extreme desire to start packing.  I should probably start with making a list.

I hope everyone is having a very happy holidays!  I'm leaving for my grandma's soon, for the second day in a row, to eat leftovers and celebrate my aunt's birthday.  This'll be the third day in a row that I've seen these people.  Good thing I like them.

How are your holidays going?  Anything exciting happening in the New Year?

Header Photo by Mike Kosiakov on Unsplash

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