For weeks the days have been rushing toward me. It’s like I’m on an airport shuttletrain, speeding past terminals, tunnel walls rushing by. I’m blasting into outer space. Stars, moons, planets whiz past. Suddenly, although it was once months away, it is only days until I leave for Honduras. I am nervous. No matter how independent I believe myself to be, there is a part of me that loves the routine of my little life in Tempe, Arizona. I love sitting for hours in coffee shops. I enjoy my daily walks with my dogs, Jazz and Baloo. Browsing bookstores. I worry that something will happen to Jazz’s health while I am away. I want to be with her when something happens. When I look behind me, a month seems insignificant. And yet, when I look forward, it seems long. Unknown. Things will change while I’m gone. The space shuttle will land. Someone other than Lance Armstrong will win the Tour de France. Baloo will probably gain ten pounds, she’ll get taller, and may no longer have her puppy face. Perhaps Andre will quit his job. He may not get the trash out on time. Will he remember to vacuum?
I can only hope that all goes smoothly, or at least as smoothly as possible. I have tried to get everything in the best possible order. The rest will be what it will be.
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