In sixty days, I will once again pack up whatever portion of my life will fit into a backpack, pray that my luck has not yet run out, and head east. That means there are just over....
60 days until I will hold a beautiful baby on my chest that I havn't even met yet and breath in his scent and melt inside just a little.
60 days until I will begin to yet again pay $700.00/month for my own personal unlimited supply of Nutella.
60 days until that big ocean no longer separates me from friends whose recent absence have left significant holes in my life.
60 days until I embark on the daily struggle of trying to communicate with patients in a language that, despite what the Ontario Secondary School System may have tried to teach me, I am far less than fluent in.
60 days until I go from someone who did something cool once in her life to someone who has a lifestyle that reflects who she wants to become.
60 days until I get to once again witness miraculous transformations in the matter of hours, literally before my eyes.
60 days until "going to work" will mean 25 steps down the hall, instead of a 60 minute commute through a snowstorm.
60 days until I will get to bargain and haggle for rides on slightly less than safe vehicles with only slightly above completely hazardous drivers.
60 days until my heart begins to break in a way that I know I cannot yet begin to imagine.
And I can't wait.
In sixty days, I will once again pack up whatever portion of my life will fit into a backpack, pray that my luck has not yet run out, and head east. That means there are just over....
60 days until I will hold a beautiful baby on my chest that I havn't even met yet and breath in his scent and melt inside just a little.
60 days until I will begin to yet again pay $700.00/month for my own personal unlimited supply of Nutella.
60 days until that big ocean no longer separates me from friends whose recent absence have left significant holes in my life.
60 days until I embark on the daily struggle of trying to communicate with patients in a language that, despite what the Ontario Secondary School System may have tried to teach me, I am far less than fluent in.
60 days until I go from someone who did something cool once in her life to someone who has a lifestyle that reflects who she wants to become.
60 days until I get to once again witness miraculous transformations in the matter of hours, literally before my eyes.
60 days until "going to work" will mean 25 steps down the hall, instead of a 60 minute commute through a snowstorm.
60 days until I will get to bargain and haggle for rides on slightly less than safe vehicles with only slightly above completely hazardous drivers.
60 days until my heart begins to break in a way that I know I cannot yet begin to imagine.
And I can't wait.