Well, I’ve only had this blog just a few days over a week and I’m already falling behind. I promised that I would blog regularly and I haven’t.
My default excuse is that I’ve been busy, and it’s true, I have. Between packing, handling the small details of my departure, working my usual 60-hour weeks and soaking up as much friendship time as possible, blogging hasn’t been a priority. I do have things to write about it, but I have decided that it can all wait until I’m officially moved out of Sioux Falls and ended both of my jobs, or at least one.
Tonight, though, I realized there was something else that was keeping me from blogging.This weekend, my mother and I packed all of my belongings – except my furniture – and hauled them to Pierre. Everything I own is designated into two piles: the sell and the keep. The sell is significantly more substantial than the keep. It was hard to go through everything I own and determine its value to me, but I plowed through the chore, throwing and recycling as necessary. We packed all I posses into mine and my mother’s vehicle and headed west this morning. As we stuffed the last of it this rainy morning, my mother noted that when I moved to Sioux Falls it was raining. Also, that three years ago at this time, both of our packed vehicles were headed to Idaho.
Being my lovely, tech-swavy mother, she tweeted about these coincidents. I didn’t see the message till later in the evening, once everything had been brought into the house and the notion of living in Pierre for a month started to settle. I teared up a bit, but forced those tears back. I couldn’t become nostalgic. I couldn’t become emotional. I couldn’t become analytical.
Then realized why I haven’t been blogging. In order to discuss how I am feeling and what I am doing, I’d have to think about it and process how much things are going to change. And, I just won’t let myself think about anything outside of today, which is an unsual concept for myself.
I am thrilled about what I am about to do, but I’m also scared out of my mind. I am nervous that I won’t be able to pick up the language skills fast enough or that I won’t be able to mesh with other volunteers and, more importantly, the locals. I fear loneliness and vanishing from the minds of my loved ones here.
Every day, I’m reminded that going to the Peace Corps is the right thing for me. The ease of all of this transition proves that. But, I want to be the right thing for the Peace Corps and the idea that I may not scares me the most.
So, if I don’t think about anything, I don’t have to face the idea of those fears becoming reality. If I don’t analyze that this is the last or that is the final, then I don’t have to analyze what comes with the ending. For now, it’s the best I can do.