I am running out of time. That thought is overwhelmingly present lately.
My trip is fast approaching, my lease is nearly up, and I am getting everything ready at work for the person who will take my position after me. On the big details, I'm more or less perfectly in place. It is the little ones that threaten to drown me.
The fact that I have no idea if I plan to return to the US after this trip means that I cannot simply just box my life up to await my return like I did when I moved to Ireland when I was 18. I have a car to sell, boxes to pack, and hundreds of things to donate. I switch almost hourly between feeling traumatized packing up my belongings and feeling cathartic to be free of possessions that clutter my existence. It's a strange feeling of unease dismantling a life I've spent years building.
Too Many Possessions
I love to procrastinate, which is why I am only starting this process in the last possible month despite having known this was coming for the previous eighteen. For someone who doesn't consider herself very materialistic, I am quickly coming to the conclusion I own a lot of things. Mostly useless things. For people that say they don't have enough money to travel, I urge you to look around your house. It's amazing how many pointless possessions we own, and how much we've likely spent obtaining them. The amount of clothing I am about to donate would total several thousands of dollars, and a disturbing amount remains unworn and tagged.
..and About Being Without a Home
Despite having lived in three countries as an adult, I have no idea how one simply quits their life. What do I do with my mail when I have no forwarding address? What do I do with my car when the future is so uncertain? I keep adding new things to take care of to my list almost daily, frantically Googling the easiest way to accomplish it and feverishly hoping I have enough time. I am a deadlines girl, but I have not played with these high stakes before. Once I leave the US, most of these tasks will be near impossible to accomplish.
I struggle with getting things done and balancing my social life friends urge me to come out for drinks when I really, really need to pack, but I rationalize I may not be seeing these friends for years. And so I go, and so another day is lost.
I suppose out of all of the problems I foresaw with this trip problems saving money, being homesick, losing my travel motivation, and so forth I never really envisioned how hard it would be to take a life apart piece by piece and try to decide where it goes.
I know that once I am actually on the road, living out of a backpack of meager possessions, that I will adjust with ease and that these struggles will seem silly. Getting to that point, however, is going to be a real struggle.
One month and counting.
