In college, I took a study abroad trip to Greece, Turkey and Italy. I had wanted to go since my freshman year, begged my parents, got a job to help pay for it during the school year, and pretty much thought of nothing else until my junior year, when I was finally allowed to go. I was so excited I could hardly contain myself. I've always dreamed of traveling to exotic places and Greece, Turkey, Italy was my first shot. I couldn't believe my luck. I signed up--and so did my best friend. I was totally giddy.
Up until right before we left. The week before, I got serious anxiety. Did I really want to go? What about my boyfriend back home? What about my parents? I would miss them. And how did I know I'd even LIKE Turkey? After all, we had gotten warned about covering our bodies and being appropriate...it didn't seem like the most fun place in the world, now that I thought about it. When my mom drove me to the airport, part of me wanted to jump out of the car and run the other way.
It was like when I was a little kid and rode the Log Flume at Busch Gardens. I rode it one day, loved it, and couldn't talk of anything else. I begged my mom to take me back again. When I got to the top of the flume, though, I freaked out and had an attendant take me off the ride. My mom was pretty furious.
I couldn't have the attendant stop study abroad, and, after all, I had talked of nothing else for three years. I had to keep my cool. I had to go. Bear the burden for the weak and be a symbol of hope for all. You know, martyr stuff.
Well, I got there and fell in love with Turkey. In fact, I can't think of a place in the world I'd rather revisit than Istanbul. (To be fair, I loved a city in each country--Istanbul in Turkey, Santorini in Greece, and Rome--obviously Rome.) But Istanbul will remain in my heart forever.
Today, I'm reminded of the pre-study abroad feeling. My parents came to move my stuff out today and now there's no furniture in my apartment and I'm typing from an airbed (borrowed from Savannah) on the empty floor. I sorta feel like calling my parents back and saying, "Never mind! I'm not ready to graduate after all! Bring my stuff back!"
Okay, so I don't handle transition so gracefully. In fact, it terrifies me. I have a sicky sinking feeling in my stomach that says it would like nothing better than to stick to the status quo. (Do you want to break out in song when I say that, too? "If you wanna be cool, follow one simple rule, don't mess with the flow no, no....)
Change is not fun. It's hard to imagine not being a student anymore. And even though I haven't exactly loved every single minute of it, it's really, really scary to think that my whole life is going to change--and I won't get spring break and summers off. What if I start my new dream job and then start to wish I was still in school? School may suck sometimes, but at least I know what I'm getting--and signing up for more education would at least keep my life more or less the same. Do I want it to be the same? Well, there's some comfort in it, to be sure.
Kicking and screaming for my bed to come back probably wouldn't look very mature, but I can't help that deep in my heart, that's what I wish I could do.
Change makes me nervous. I do not like it.
I also do not love sleeping on an airbed. My beautiful, beautiful bed is far away and I probably won't get to sleep on it again until I have a place of my own.
I'm not trying to be all sentimental. I'm just sayin', I may be all lawyered up now, but I still feel like the kid at the top of the log flume.
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