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.

In Which I Leave Work (Temporarily)

Yesterday was my last day at work, for exactly six months. Of course I've had 'last days' at previous jobs before, but this one felt different. Sad because I'm leaving behind a lovely bunch of people, who have made the last 18 months at the company not just bearable, but actually entertaining, and frequently downright hilarious. Well, apart from when I make puns that are so bad I'm asked to leave.

But odd because I will be coming back. I have no idea what things will be like when I return, but because I have a fixed return date, it doesn't really feel like a proper goodbye.

Still.

I was nevertheless a bit emotional when it came to the actual goodbye time. My workmates all chipped in for a magnificent spread of food, so we spent the entire working day gorging ourselves on crisps, popcorn, cookies and brownies. I also received some lovely leaving presents, both useful and pretty (the perfect combination).

Why yes, those chocolates on the right are indeed gin truffles.

It struck me, though, that I've never spent this amount of time not working before. I had two months off a couple of years ago for an operation but, given that I spent a lot of that time lolling around on super-strength painkillers, it wasn't exactly an ideal opportunity to go gallivanting around. It feels quite weird as a (supposed) adult who's been working more or less full-time since the age of 18, to now have six months off where I don't have to turn up to a place of employment on time, dressed appropriately in order to spend 7 hours a day performing mostly pointless tasks. 

Cause for celebration, I feel. So tonight I am off to dine with some of my favourite friends at a Mongolian barbecue restaurant, and watch a show at the Hebden Bridge Burlesque Festival.

An Introduction.

I'm about to depart on an adventure. The use of this word is relative; what I'm doing and where I'm going may not seem particularly adventurous to some - at least, to those people who've already travelled all of the continents and can order a coffee five different ways, in five different languages. However. In my 26 years on this planet, I have left the UK a total of 5 times - and only two of those were as an adult. So, this is kind of a big deal to me.

On Sunday 11th May, I will be flying to Rome, the start of a 4 1/2 month stay in Europe flitting around various countries. I do not speak any other languages, and I am also an introvert who likes her home comforts. To illustrate: just three weeks ago I cried at the prospect of having to phone a potentially-angry customer; my favourite way to spend a Friday night is to hide under the duvet from 9:30 onwards, falling asleep to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy radio series; I get a little disappointed if I don't get a regular opportunity to have lengthy bubble baths (and by regular I mean twice a week).

So now you might see why this trip means a lot to me. 

~But if I'm such an introvert, why am I going?~

There are several reasons. One of the first triggers, that made me think about visiting somewhere for longer than the average holiday, was my oldest friend leaving the UK in 2010 to travel the world. Her enthusiasm before she left was infectious, and made me feel almost brave enough to think of doing something similar myself. Sadly, relationship, work and money issues have made my own plans come to fruition slightly later than I would have liked, but my gratitude goes to my friend for inspiring me so.

I'm also all about character development. Anyone who has spent any amount of time with me in real life will know that one of my favourite rebuttals to any complaint is "It's character-building!" So I'm basically taking my own advice and doing something which goes against my natural inclinations, in order to learn and experience new things, and grow from it. And, *maybe*, have some actual fun in the process.

But it's not just about the self-helpy growth stuff. I'm also going for the gelato food.