I wouldn't say I'm addicted to blogging...but then again, that just depends on your definition of "addiction"...and maybe "blogging"...and possibly "say."
I have an phone interview regarding Findhorn tomorrow. I'm excited. I'd be nervous if I had any idea what they were going to ask me, but I think they just want to hear me make complete, coherent sentences...which I can do. Sometimes I like to use fragments...poetic license and all that...but my thoughts are intelligent enough.
I bought a wheeled piece of luggage...that was a big deal. I started packing a little, mostly to get the stuff out of my closet. I have about 3 more months to get things taken care of...I need insurance and a passport photo and a much better idea of what I should be taking with me.
I am excited. This is a point of departure for me...every time I think about doing something like this, I think that. But really, I can feel it. I have always felt it about travel and spending time other places but I haven't ever spent that long away...and I know I keep myself here because of all the things that continue to go on...I have an awesome set of friends and a great, supportive family...and yet my heart still tugs at my sleeve and asks politely, "Can we go now?" I don't know what business it has in Scotland, or any other place, but I am tired of the tugging and equally tired of the ignoring...so we will go. August 28th or something...we'll be on our way.
In the meantime, I have one more shortish qtr. of school, the summer, the moments of time before I go, and a shit ton of things to do before then...welcome aboard.