There is once again a chill in the air here; just like that, our sunny days and flirtations of spring have vanished, and we are back to negative temperatures and threats of snow. I spent the weekend cuddling with my new foster cat, talking with my sister, watching movies with my family, and gorging on Easter chocolate, wine, and seemingly endless platters of cheese. I most certainly did not spend the weekend replying to emails, working on articles, studying Spanish, planning my very pertinent trip to Belize with my mom, booking an appointment with the travel health clinic, catching up on my Matador U course, sorting out my bills, packing up my house, or even thinking about the fact that I am leaving for an eight-month backpacking trip in a matter of weeks.
I only have one week left of work, and then I have a solid 16 days to do all of these things. The thought of tackling them all, however, makes me just want to fast-forward until I am on the road again, trying new foods, making new friends, and wandering new streets. The thing is, I know that I’ll blink and these weeks will be gone, that I’ll be on a plane, that I’ll have another stamp in my passport, that I’ll be sunburnt and mosquito-bitten and happy.