Countdown

I'm getting ready. Preparing for the trip and realizing there is no way, really, to prepare for the experience.

Even so, I'm making my lists. Big lists spanning the short days before I leave, small lists tackling the days, the mornings. Ordering my cell phone. Fixing my suitcase. Writing out my verb conjugations. Printing maps. Reading my Valencia guidebook and oh so loosely planning my days. I'm a list maker. It curbs the anxiety.

Because there is anxiety. Poking up amidst the excitement and coloring my dreams. Tinglings in the bottom of my stomach that come unasked, prompting me to reach for reasons why I should be so nervous. There are many-leaving my husband, living with a stranger, finding my way through a language and city I don't know-all make me almost want to bail on this dream and think of another that is closer to home.

But I know this is something I need to do. And that when it's over, I'll have it, always, tucked in my back pocket, ready to be pulled out and examined whenever I need a little push into the next scary and wonderful thing. I did this, I'll say. What else can I do?

When I come home, I'll face the next challenge at my second RE appointment. Until then, I will throw my heart into Valencia, happily accepting all it holds out to me.