In my last post I discussed the interruption that house-sitting provided to our "Australian dream." Well, looming on the near horizon is yet another, more momentous interruption: my return to the Homeland.
This Wednesday I embark on my 25-hour-long journey to New York City for Carissa's wedding. I can't believe the time for my trip is already here. When I bought the ticket it seemed like such a distant, quasi-imaginary dream that I would ever actually be making my way back to the States, yet here I am, packing my bags, preparing for my one-and-a-half weeks in North America.
I'm not exactly sure what I want to say about this... there's such a mixture of thoughts and emotions that come with returning home. Will I survive the twenty-five hours on multiple planes without Will to keep me entertained? More importantly, will I be able to get back on a plane just 1.5 weeks later? Will my friends think I look the same? Will they remark on my charming new Australian accent? Will I max out my credit cards buying things I haven't seen in nine months? Will I be able to say goodbye to friends and family, not knowing when I'll see them again? Will I be able to be as happy with life in Australia upon my return after having been "awakened" from the dream before we're even halfway through?
Who knows? I'm not trying to sound over-dramatic here, but Lord knows that as great as Australia is, the US--even New York City--will always be home. And home is not something that's ever easy to leave behind.
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