Life Goes On
Editor's Note: In rereading this entry, I realize that it comes across as feeling very sorry for myself. That's not really my intention. I decided to post it anyway because I think that those who are considering an overseas trip need to be aware that you can get like this, somedays.
One of the big problems I have with living overseas is the knowledge that everything back home is continuing to happen without me. It's not that I expect that everything will freeze or something strange like that, but it's kinda hard hearing about how your friends are doing things that you wish you could join them in, and you're stuck in a rainy city that smells funny during the summer.
I know, isn't that strange? I get emails and read blog entries about how my friends back home are so jealous of my adventures, and it's not that I don't appreciate that I'm having a great time. It's just... eh. Sometimes I wish I was there, or could just pop over and see people and stuff, rather than having my entire communication be via email or the occasional trans-Atlantic ICQ conversation.
And yet, if I had stayed home, delaying my trip or cancelling it, I would be stark raving mad by now. The last two months I was in Edmonton, I would have panic attacks that I was going to be stuck there forever, that I'd be one of those people who always talks about leaving, but never does. I wanted more, and I know that in wanting more, one must actually grab for it.
Today I'm feeling really melancholy. I'm tired, and it's been making everything seem a lot bleaker than it really is. I know that, and it's not like when I'm tired like this back home, I don't feel exactly the same way. Everything just seems so much worse. Even though I leave tomorrow morning on the 11 a.m. train to Glasgow, I cannot let myself believe I'm actually going to Paris. It's like... if I believe it, it won't happen, or something.
I guess it's just a matter of reminding myself that life does go on, and it will get better, and I am going to have a really good time this week. That tonight is my last shift at work for four nights, and that I can indulge myself in Paris with presents for friends and all the things I haven't seen for over ten years.
And it's not that I don't want to hear about my friends having a good time, going to festivals and playing games and enjoying what passes for weather in Edmonton. I just wish that I didn't know, from personal experience, how much fun they're having. Because thinking about how much fun Paris will be seems very abstract at the moment, wheras I know how much fun I'd have going out to see a movie back home.