In Which I Say Goodbye

I've come to the conclusion that I'm terrible at goodbyes. Some people can say exactly the right things, which are sincere and caring and clever, whilst also successfully navigating hugs and working out which direction to walk in.

I am not one of those people. I pause and gape like a gutted guppy, feeling like there is more I want to say but not quite managing to get anything out other than the usual little insignificant tokens. And then still usually end up doing the 'awkward hug', or tripping up as I'm walking away.

However, my goodbyes are done. I even found time to say goodbye to this beast:

The to-do list has been fully ticked - actually that's a lie, I still have a crap-ton of things left to do but I'm running out of time so I'm just going to bury my head in the sand.

I have managed to pack, though. Gadgets and gizmos and coping mechanisms galore, all just-about stuffed inside a carry-on size backpack:

Why yes, I am taking a graffiti'ed My Little Pony with me. Childhood nostalgia ftw.

The sheer fact of what I am going to do has hit me, and to be honest I can't decide whether I feel dazed or panicked... It switches from one to the other.

I certainly don't feel ready. My comfort-zone loving introvert side doesn't relax until I know exactly where I'm going, what I'm doing and whether there will be a nice quiet room somewhere with no people... Which won't really happen for the next four months, in all likelihood.

Still, for all that I don't feel ready, and despite worrying that I won't have enough introvert-friendly downtime, I am bloody excited. I'm looking forward to gaining some new perspectives, learning more about other countries, and spending more time outside than I currently do. I suppose I'm also looking forward to meeting new people as well, albeit somewhat begrudgingly.