One Week Left

Here's a chance to analyse my dreams.

Dream 1: I am visiting Indonesia when a tsunami hits and I have to try to sneak on to a refugee bus that is taking me to Cape Town (apparently my subconscious is geographically challenged).

Dream 2: My cousin's wedding back home is cancelled and I am told I can't go home, not now and not ever and I urgently need to contact my parents to let them know.

Basically, my untrained eye says that the inner Anna workings are freaking the hell out over the concept of THE RETURN. Like a bad sequel. Anna's Life 2.
Because 5 months may not seem like a long time to the seasoned among you, but to me it is one of the longest, biggest and most overwhelming periods of my life. And a big chunk of me is peeing a little with joy at the thought of seeing my family and friends and dogs and house and job and all, and another chunk is excited for university and another is hanging onto this trip by the pant legs and screaming 'NO NO NO DON'T MAKE ME GO HOME EVER'. It terrifies me that after going home, after wedding and family and all, I won't have thing after thing after thing to be excited about, no dates of flights or jumps into the unknown. I will only have life. And that is too big a thing to think about in one go.

And I find out if I'm accepted into my journalism course in a few days.

And I had a sliver of an idea of my dream job, and it isn't eating food. It's this. Travel writing. Or writing about interesting things in weird places. And eating exotic food.

And somehow, going home is the scariest part of all.