Never spontaneous

I am not a spontaneous person, and I am not particularly fun. I like to stay in my house with my bed and my coffee cups and my stuff. I like to have a well-built plan that could overcome all obstacles.  I have tried to like spontaneity. No. That’s a lie. I just don’t like it. I have never tried. I like to have a plan.

But today, at a little after 5:00, I leave for Europe. My plan is basic. I have transportation and housing figured out but everything else is up in the air. I am flying alone to meet my travel buddy and future roommate in Milan, where we will decide where the next few days will take us. I have to admit that I am nervous. Travelling for two weeks in Europe followed by a six week program at Oxford sounds like a dream, and I know it will be. The naseau in my stomach says otherwise. I am being silly, and I know that. This is the ultimate #firstworldproblem: to feel nervous about spending your entire bank account on a trip to see the world (when by the world you mean parts of Western Europe which is most certainly not THE ENTIRE WORLD).

I do not feel excited yet. I feel like leaving is not real, and that the suitcases in my room aren’t boarding a British Airways flight with me to leave the country later today. I have to admit. Despite the excitement I am sure will come with boarding the plane, I am currently disappointed that HBO’s GIRLS ended last week and there is not a new one for me to watch.

There is apparently no wifi on my flight because that is hard to establish o’er the ocean. This foils my plan to watch all of the episodes of Downtown Abbey. This is 2012. Why are computer science engineers making touchscreens that can turn into buttons when we can’t even use our fancy touchscreens over the Atlantic Ocean?

But for now, in the meantime before my flight I need to shove my stomach full of tex-mex and toughen up, buttercup.