God, for some reason it’s been a long, brutal week.
The yoga has been phenomenal (or better), mostly because I’ve ditched the caffeine. It’s warmed up here, too, and been more humid—we’ve had more rain in the last week than in the last year, although it’s a particular kind of Southern California rain. It will rain for two hours or so, but all with a brilliant blue sky just over the next hill. So you know the rain is only a temporary spectacle. It’s not actually weather.
It makes me wonder how I’ll appreciate India, especially as I’m going in the hot season, followed by monsoon. I’ve read temperatures vary from 85 to 105 degrees. Plus it’s tropical humidity, too. Ye gods. Well, I thrive on scorching temperatures, so hopefully I won’t be totally blown out.
I’m roughly five weeks out from departure, give or take a few days. To appreciate the full magnitude, some might say insanity, of my situation, let me provide a few details.
Fact number one: In three weeks, I’m putting in notice at work. I’d love to take a leave of absence and return to a paying job, but I don’t think the powers-that-be will go for it. So boom, just like that, I’m quitting my job.
Fact number two: I’ve sold a ton of old clothes, donated a ton of old clothes and books, and sold or donated all my furniture except for my mattress. Not that I had much, mind you. I’ve sort of become a minimalist, and most of my worldly possessions consisted of a bookshelf, bed and nightstand. That was it.
On March 1, a friend is moving into our apartment and taking over my room. I’m moving onto the couch to become a houseguest in my own apartment for the remainder of my time in the U.S.
I’ll come back low on funds, with no job and no permanent place to live.
In light of all this, India is icing on the cake.
Until Christmas, I had these anxiety-filled moments where I’d seize up, overwhelmed at the thought of all that was coming in 2004.
For some reason, something changed during the holidays and the sense of the inevitability and right-ness of my actions has only grown stronger. I think in part because it’s becoming more and more obvious that I’m doing what I love to do.
As I’ve mentioned before, the difficulty has now become biding my time until D-day. It’ll get here too soon, but not soon enough. I’ve taken to marking days off a calendar. It’s not much, but it helps.