empty suitcases

I should be packing. But, there’s something about having a list of things to do that upon looking at it only inspires me to procrastinate. The list must be so daunting that I figure I should start attacking it later. So here I am, introspective me, letting my thoughts wander and writing down the most coherent (but barely lucid, I’m sure) parts.

The most profound thing, amidst the shopping and packing and researching and stressing is that I’m leaving in 2 days and still lacking the excitement I feel I should be experiencing. I’m finally doing this hugely different thing with my life, but I suppose between my ephemeral commitments (the GRE and my two-week job) and being stuck at home, the blunt truth of leaving for Japan for a year got pushed aside. When will it hit me? The plane? The Tokyo hotel? My little town where I’m the only English-speaker for miles (now, kilometers)? I can all too easily see where my lack of realization makes getting excited about leaving difficult.

Despite how brazenly obvious it is on paper, when I began preparing, I didn’t contemplate how stressful moving to a country with such different customs would be: the JET podcast says I need a minimum of eight pairs of shoes, and omiyage for 30 people (small gifts for co-workers, supervisors and neighbors–I got some Little Debbie cakes and baseball cards); properly sorting my trash into the five bins correctly; not speaking Japanese. I have been told that I can get by only saying sumimasen … ga wakarimasen (“sorry, but I don’t understand”), but it’s still all quite disheartening.

I guess it all boils down to me being impatient to leave the complacency of life in the states. I’ve been on a set path my entire life; always aware of what was coming next and generally knowing how it would be. I learn best through mistakes, and I’m eager to make a staggeringly large number of them.

60 hours.