Days Go By

Good evening!

So much has been done since my last post, and yet it feels like so little.  Anything, I suppose, seems little when framed against the large block of time ahead of me.  I can barely step outside without certain thoughts creeping into my head—like, “four more days,” “three more days,” and “two more days.”  Days until what?  Until I leave?  Like looking up at the sky in Spain will be any different?  Not likely.

Other things will be, though.  Spending the night with grandparents, talking about our lives and politics; swinging by another grandmother’s house and being sedated by stories from the Depression; raiding a pizza buffet, laughing at a chick flick, and losing at Scrabble with my mom.  Those will be different.

A friend reminds me that that is only for a while.  I will soon come back, and will likely have similar feelings upon leaving that country, too.  I guess we’re just funny that way.

Anywho, my luggage is (mostly) all packed.  I’ve got a personal bag, and overhead suitcase, and a mammoth-sized bag to be checked at the airport.  And, I found it surprisingly hard to fill all of those.  What do you bring to a foreign country for five months?  I’ve got clothes, important documents, small electronics (laptop, camera, MP3 player), toothbrush, an electricity converter . . . and that’s about it.  I deeefinitely feel like I’m missing something.  Or, a lot of somethings.  I guess I’ll find out exactly what once I’m there.  Yeah, that’s a good policy.

So, now packed, I go to sleep.  Tomorrow, I wake up and hug my mother goodbye.  I drive to my dad’s house, where he is cooking me an old family specialty, I finish packing, and I go to sleep.  When I wake up, I’m airport-bound.

I’ll check in soon,

Seth Ancil Allen