GOING CRAZY
It's currently the day before the day before I leave (I'm spending my 2nd semester of sophmore year in Sevilla, Spain), and I'm getting antsy. I'm surprisingly not very nervous, just sick of waiting. I've been packed all week and living out of my suitcase for no reason.
La familia is handling my departue in different ways. My overly sensitive mammoth of a brother randomly suffocates me and says, "You can't leave!," then loafs off. My younger sister mentioned how nice it was going to be with me not annoying her for a change, then she licked mashed potatoes off her spoon like ice cream. She's lovely. My Padre is stressin. Although I've lived away from home since I was fourteen, my dad was always able to reach me if he needed to. It's a little different thousands of miles away so he's freakin. I don't thinking it's helping him everytime I tell him, "It's fine! I'm not nervous.," then go watch T.V. Although he thinks I'm completely unprepared for the trip, that's sort of what I like about it. I just wanna go, do stuff, and not think about anything else.
Soooo I might not have everything together, (What else do I need besides my massive list of addresses for postcards?) but the Padre has left me with the only advice necessary, "Don't get drunk on the plane." To my surprise he actually used the word "drunk", when he usually ops for the phrase, "feeling no pain." To be honest getting drunk on the place never crossed my mind until he put it there....hehh hehh.
Don't worry Padre, I really will pass on that one.
Hopefully the next time I have a minute to write something down I'll have more interesting things to say
mrt.
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