Three weeks from today I’ll start off on my Grand Adventure. In the mean time, I’ve got one more shakedown cruise, a ton of research, and of course packing to do. Oh, and this thing called a job. I’m getting nervous, excited, and anxious all rolled into one. The closer I get the more I feel like I’m going to throw up from nerves.
It’s funny the reaction people have when I tell them that I’m taking a month off. It’s somewhere between shock (you have that much leave?!), jealousy (I wish I could go…), and pride (good for you! I didn’t know people in DC did that). What people don’t realize is that doing this is completely nerve racking for me.
I am not what one would consider a free spirit. If you are familiar with Myers-Briggs I am about as hard of a “J” as you can get. My Dad tells this story of when I was around 3 he caught me sitting on the porch steps on Easter Sunday. He asked me what I was doing. I told him I was waiting for them to finish getting ready. Yeah, you could say that I’ve always been a planner. So, doing a trip like this, far from my comfort zone is something that elicits anxiety.
I’m desperately trying to not get too far down into the weeds because if I plan to drive X number of miles on a given day by golly that is how far I am driving. It’s just how I roll. So instead of planning like that, I’m trying to tack it back a couple of notches. In full disclosure, I’m failing miserably, but I’m trying. My plan is this, take as many pictures as I can so that my superhero can see all of the things that he has wanted to see in his life. Because, let’s face it; I’m a Daddy’s girl and the whole reason I’m doing this trip is for him.