I have a couple of trips coming up, and although I like to travel once I'm on the road, the process leading up to that moment is always mixed for me. There is such a mixture of anticipation and dread that comes with heading out the door.
I think part of it is the million things that have to be taken care of before I can leave. There's the laundry, the cleaning, the shopping, the packing. Just the packing itself is enough to be discouraging. There are money matters and last-minute crises. It gets overwhelming.
There's also the leaving of the animals. Yoda especially has been through this enough with me to know that when suitcases are spotted, separation is imminent. She hates my suitcases and goes back and forth between packing herself inside them, refusing to get out or be removed and clawing the outside with those discrete sabers she keeps at the ends of her paws.
A strange immobility engulfs me. There are things I know I need to do. Minutes click away, and still I wait. Since this action (or inaction) actually causes more stress and last-minute problems, I can't for the life of me figure out why I do it. But I do. Every single time.
Even this blog is just a form of it. Soon the trip will be on, and I will be involved in it. I just have to find a way to start the ball rolling to begin with.
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And then you said.....