Dear Readers,
I am a bad traveler. Not only do I get super stressed out by the process of packing/getting to the airport, I don't feel like the ratio of enjoyment on the trip outweighs the costs of actually getting to the vacation. I hate the box seats in airplanes, waiting in those endless lines to just get rid of that overpacked suitcase which contains way too many shirts and shorts for only a 7 day trip. The whole process seems worthless to me, and although I realize its necessary, I can't remove this bad feeling I get whenever I'm on the shuttle approaching the airport.

There's a part of me that doesn't want to admit this hatred of traveling; I feel like I should be cool enough to see the joy in an unexpected situation. It's taken me a long time to actually realize the regularity of my life. I ate bean soup at least 5 times a week for the whole month of May; I wear the same pjs every night; I get enjoyment out of watching the same movies and shows over and over again. There is a part of me that is scared to venture out into the unknown, to step out of my comfort zone and explore the world around me. Sometimes I'd much rather stay in bed....or at least in Oakdale.

Which is precisely why I'm so frightened to go to Italy: not only is there a new routine to get used to, but a new language! But in proportion to my fear of the unknown is a desire to explore outside the boundaries I've set for myself. I have an acquaintance who was raised to work; that's all he does. He has never traveled for fun....ever. And I fear turning into him. He has a lot of the same tendencies I do, but exaggerated because of a family that hasn't pushed him to step outside his routine. That is maybe one of my biggest fears: to miss out on an opportunity that would possibly be life changing.

Italy here I come!