Pre-Homesick Homesickness

Hi hiiii! To the few readers I might have (hi Mom, hi Mom's friends), I figured I might start up a new blog for this next chapter of my life (ew, so cliche, sorry) since my last blog, "You Trash It, I Eat It," is not quiiiite related to this subject. I loved that blog and will miss it dearly, but it's time to move on.

Speaking of moving on, THAT'S WHAT I'M DOING!!!!! In exactly a week and one day, I'll be hitting the road to Colorado. Grad school is calling and I'm semi-willingly answering. I'll be starting the Doctor of Audiology program at the University of Northern Colorado. Four more years of school. FOUR MORE YEARS. Better enjoy this last week-and-a-day of freedom, huh?

Grad school is intimidating, just like its scary mascot.
Grad school = mean bears. Great.

(Get ready for some cheeeeeese in 3...2....) I've been so focused on how potentially happy/miserable I could be in Colorado that I didn't realize how tough these last few weeks at home would be. I might go so far as to say that this could be the worst part of moving. The waiting part. The part where everything's still a mystery. Being homesick sucks, but anticipating homesickness almost sucks more. Those moments when something stupidly normal happens and you start tearing up because it suddenly dawns on you that you might miss it later. That nagging reminder to focus really hard on everything people are saying and doing because this moment is going to pass and it could be a potential precious memory.

...For example, I cried today because I realized I wouldn't be able to listen Zeb Norris on the radio in Colorado. I also cried because my brother made a mess of the peanut butter jar just how I hate it and I realized I was going to miss yelling at him about it. I also cried last night because the stars were so pretty, even though I'm fairly positive the stars will still be there when I move. IT'S STUPID, IT'S SO STUPID. I can't stop tearing up. I'm like a subtly leaky faucet.

Also, like an idiot, I overbooked myself. I was just abroad for a few weeks and I remember thinking as I was booking the tickets, "Might not be smart to schedule the return flight so close to the move date." And lo and behold, not smart. I gave myself exactly two weeks to recoup from the trip and gear up for the next one. And on TOP of that, I signed myself up for an art show, smack dab in the middle of the chaos. So I'm trying to pack for the move and get prints matted and register for classes and rent a canopy tent and say goodbye to the people I need to say goodbye to and fend off self-doubt about showing my artwork and soak up as much Vermont as possible, ALL AT ONCE.

This is a decent portrayal of what I feel like right now, as well as
 a good representation of the kind of stuff you'll find at the art show.
You are what you art, they say.

...Wish me luck. I'm going to need a bunch of it. Also, tissues.