Shittin' bricks

You guyyys! I leave in two weeks!

Ro leaves even sooner since she is going to Tasmania before we meet up in Sydney. But who cares about her?

I am feeling really nervous again today. I am in love with probably the handsomest boy in the world, and I am scared about how much I might miss him in six months. (The trip was in the works before we got together, otherwise I might have forced him to earn thousands and thousands of dollars to come visit me). Logically, I'm aware that it won't be that bad when I'm actually there - things never are, plus I'll be all minglin' with Peruvians and chillin' on mountains and such - but right now it seems that it will surely be intolerable. This is probably the thing I'm most worried about, to be honest. What can I say ladies, I'm a romantic. I am also scared that I will cry so much at the airport that I will look completely horrible and that his last image of me will be of a whimpering, moaning, red puffy freak and he will never want to kiss me again.

I'm a little bit scared I'll die and my family will be really upset. I'm also scared that Ro will die and I'll have to call her family, like in the Gringo Trail by Mark Mann. Nightmare. And I'm also scared that someone I think is great will die and I won't have said goodbye to them properly. Also that a member of my family will get sick while I'm away.

I'm scared I'll run out of money and that I'll have a major tooth problem and need surgery and be unable to get it. I'm scared that one of my moles is actually a skin cancer and I won't find out until I get back and the doctor says "you know, if we had found this three months ago, we would have been able to save you." Or that I have any other kind of cancer really. I'm scared that I won't be able to find a place or a job when I get back and I'll have to live with my parents and they'll be like "FOR GOD'S SAKE, WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO GET OUT OF OUR HOUSE, YOU ARE A GROWN WOMAN."

I'm scared that I'm going to hate it even though I know I won't because I've never really hated anything, ever, I'm always happy when I'm somewhere new, but still I haven't been overseas for five years, and even though I like to think of myself as a travel-happy person what if it turns out I'm actually a real homebody, can't leave home for a month without crying every day, the kind of person that always made me think to myself: LAAAAAAAAME! I am regretting this cruelty, now.

If it weren't for the fact that you only get one life to live I'm not sure I'd have the courage to travel anywhere, ever.

One weird thing is that I'm actually very eager to leave in a way, but mainly just so that I can stop this terrible worrying.