dimanche, juillet 27
Sifting and sorting through boxes, bags, and drawers I review the paperwork before my eyes. September 2, le 2 Septembre, it says in English and French. This moment feels oddly familiar despite the fact that the situation is new; once again I'm preparing to say goodbye and am carefully rereading all of the facts on a time line send to me via foreign correspondence. A scant 27 days or so stand between me and the great new adventure in the North East. I've an ocean of work to do between then and now in terms of preparation yet I approach the fact that I am completely unprepared with gleeful excitement. I thrive under pressure. Unlike last summer where I'd known for months about my imminent departure to France I've only just learned about Montreal 2 months before, not much time to fully internalize and accept the fact that I am leaving. Leaving again. Hello, au revoir. I can't decide just how I feel about it yet, because, well, it's all happening so goddamn fast. Everyone's been congratulating me and telling me how amazing it is that I'm following my goals/dreams/aspirations/whatever/etc. And they're mostly right, but then again, I feel a bit trite in smiling and responding with the obligatory, Thanks, I'm so lucky or I know isn't it great? I mostly just want to shout at them, You can do it too, you can make whatever you want for yourself happen, stop waiting around, I think you're really brilliant and I wish you did too, I'm not any different then you I just realized that the fear of not doing what I wanted was greater then the fear of trying and potentially failing. I'm in no means an example to be followed, but I simply wish that people, namely those I love and care about, would do more. (And by do more I mean do more doing, any sort of doing really.) I continue to approach this new experience with critical eyes, have I made a knee-jerk reaction to returning back to the States? Was I too scared to actually try things out here? Am I running from my past? Do I glorify my past too much because I fear the future/unknown? Do I fear the shaky job market and slumped economy? Why didn't I apply to a program in France? Is this what I really want or just something that I was accepted to and thus accepted myself? As usual, I'm drowning in questions and trying to grab at any answer that floats by. Of course answers to hypothetical questions rarely present themselves so easily and I try to calm nerves by searching for apartments on craigslist or reading up on Montreal's neighborhoods. I guess the only conclusion I can come to at this point is that I'm restless. I know Minneapolis isn't for me, at least not yet, maybe one day. In this moment I need more, a lot more, and I can say with almost complete certainty that Montreal won't be enough for me either, even if for the moment it keeps my heart content.