Some musings on the eve of departure.

I’m sitting in the living room of my friend’s apartment, six hours before I have to be at the airport. I should try and sleep, but I know it would be pretty futile. My mind is simply spinning in circles. I can’t even begin to comprehend what the next two years are going to be like. I’m simultaneously in denial, excited, and scared out of my mind.

Part of my brain hasn’t even accepted the fact that I’m going to be doing anything out of the ordinary tomorrow. Another part is excited beyond belief that I’m finally going to be doing something meaningful with my life. And another part is worried for more reasons than I can count. Will I get sick? Will I get mauled by a tiger? And of course my biggest worry of all: what happens if I am as big a failure at this as I was in Japan?

I think about the future too much; it has always been a weakness of mine. But, on the eve of leaving everything and everyone I have ever known, how can I not worry? For the last few days I’ve been swinging back and forth like a pendulum, vacillating between this excitement and terror. Not that anyone who spent any time with me would have noticed, save my parents.

There really isn’t much else to say. My reasons for going through with this are many and mostly selfish. But there’s no backing out; technically it’s an option but I refuse to consider it. No matter what, the next two years will probably do more to define what kind of man I become more so than anything else I’ve ever done in my life.

I think I’ll try and get some sleep now.