Sitting in Reagan National Airport waiting for my flight to Seattle by way of Denver. Since I found out I had to leave Thailand, I was already looking ahead to my next trip, and I can't believe it's actually now here. For the months leading up to now, almost everyone I told I would be backing through Latin America had basically the same response of shock and horror that I would even consider to attempt such a thing. Don't I know it's dangerous? There are so many drug cartels! Whatever I do, do not go to Aruba. None of this bothered me. I was still off the high I had from my last trip and remembering those feelings was enough to shut out the anxiety that a trip of this magnitude should reasonably bring.
But now, it's a different story. I've had a feeling in my stomach for the last few days that I have not been able to shake. It's not something I've felt before any of my other trips, but then again none of the others have been quite like this. Simply thinking of a map and the land we are going to be covering is completely daunting and sends me into a mini panic attack. As Steph pointed out, not having a set plan probably isn't helping this situation too much either.
Thinking about it one city, even just one country, at a time alleviates some of the anxiety, and I am thinking and hoping that once we get going we will be so caught up in it that we wont really be able to think too much about it. So right now, I am going to dig deep and try to find the person I found while I was in Thailand, the one who was super easy going, who shrugged off a beach robbery, and took one day at a time. I am not even going to think about anything beyond Vancouver. I have ten days to enjoy there and I intend to make the best of them.
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