Farewell for now, Syracuse. NEPA, here I come.
So here I am, holiday music blaring from my surround sound speakers, clothes all over my floor, suitcases open and half-packed, trying to decide what exactly to pack up for a month at home.
The irony in that really kills me. Packing a suitcase to go home.
Nevertheless, the underwear and undershirts are tucked away and the sweaters and thermals and long-sleeved everything to keep me warm during a long, wintry month at home are waiting to be folded and put in place.
And it's amazing how excited and sad I am for this at the same time.
I honestly cannot wait to see everyone at home. Hot chocolate and catching up by fireside, sledding, Christmas party with secret Santas, random roadtrips, a formal New Year's, and just tons of fun are waiting for us.
And I honestly don't want to leave these people here. It's going to be weird going back to a place where you have to drive 10 minutes to get to your friends' houses. It's going to be weird having to make plans for the next day. I'm going to miss my friends living a few floors above or below me. And doing things at completely random and ridiculous times. And not having a schedule to follow at all.
So this is me, watching the snow that will eventually amount to seven inches tomorrow start to fall, stuck in between two lives, not sure which one I like better, or if either one is better at all, all the while, unspeakably thankful and grateful that I have both.
The irony in that really kills me. Packing a suitcase to go home.
Nevertheless, the underwear and undershirts are tucked away and the sweaters and thermals and long-sleeved everything to keep me warm during a long, wintry month at home are waiting to be folded and put in place.
And it's amazing how excited and sad I am for this at the same time.
I honestly cannot wait to see everyone at home. Hot chocolate and catching up by fireside, sledding, Christmas party with secret Santas, random roadtrips, a formal New Year's, and just tons of fun are waiting for us.
And I honestly don't want to leave these people here. It's going to be weird going back to a place where you have to drive 10 minutes to get to your friends' houses. It's going to be weird having to make plans for the next day. I'm going to miss my friends living a few floors above or below me. And doing things at completely random and ridiculous times. And not having a schedule to follow at all.
So this is me, watching the snow that will eventually amount to seven inches tomorrow start to fall, stuck in between two lives, not sure which one I like better, or if either one is better at all, all the while, unspeakably thankful and grateful that I have both.