This morning, I woke up to my final Brooklyn run to see a thin coating of snow on the ground. The soft was snow and the ice rare, so conditions were fairly good. It was wicked cold - 20, with windchill of four below. I met my running club and ran for a little bit until I had to turn back to deal with my insane day: laundry, work at home, head to airport at noon. I feel sick almost - hoping I remembered to pack everything, and also, sick at how much I already miss Brant.
But I'm lucky. I really am. I'm quite far from rich but it's really fantastic that I can afford to go away for so long. It's great that I work for a job that lets me take 7 weeks of vacation (paid!) - my friend Todd works someplace where he can't really go away for more than a week because he is considered too vital for him to be gone that long. I'm also lucky that I work for a job when I walk in with pink hair, the CEO says, "How festive!" I'm lucky because I am in love with someone who is so amazing that despite no prior interest in Nicaragua, is coming down to spend two weeks with me around Nicaragua. I'm lucky because my family and friends have all provided their love and support of this trip. I'm lucky because I get to create my own Christmas fantasy this year.
The minutes are counting down. Have to finish packing my asthma medicine (decided to bring it despite its bulkiness because I'm pretty sure a Central American hospital is not fun at all), rearrange clothes in my bag, take care of a bunch of last-minute work things, do a once-over for the subletter.
No expensive jewelry. Dresses. Bikinis. Rash guard. Glitter. Books. Netbook. I think I'm set. It's going to be a wild ride, with lots of ups and downs. I'm sure I'll end up crying in a bus station at some point, missing everything back home, especially the ones I love most, but then there will be that moment where I catch that wave, and it feels so good, so amazing, and it is then that I will truly remember what it means to be alive.