And so, we are given transitions to help us deal with changes. I remember being unsure of being a parent, wary of all of the stress and discomfort and annoyance that comes with children. However, by the end of my pregnancy I was so uncomfortable that I would do anything to end such a state, even if it involved waking up at odd hours of the night and changing diapers.
Brandon and I are almost done packing. He is sharpening the knives and I am supposed to be gathering up the odd effects that are still lying around waiting to be shoved into any available space that has a spare pound. I have been packing, sorting, organizing, purging, weighing, re-packing, and deciding for the last three days. Previous to that I was completing myriad odd other tasks that come with moving one's life overseas. And I am in such a state that I will do almost anything to be done with this. Even move around the globe to a city crammed with 17 million Cairenes, each and every one of which will stare at me with my blond hair every time I step out of my door.
And so, on the eve of the end of this phase in my life, I wonder: Am I nervous? Afraid? Wary? Excited? No, I'm just tired. And let Tuesday afternoon bring what it may. I don't care.