of zombies, airlines, and evenings in.

I don't think I appreciate my dreams as much as I used to. I do not refer to my dreams and aspirations. I refer to the crazy images and stories of my subconscious. I've dabbled in writing dream journals over the past year, and having read some of my most recent entries in comparison to my first ones I've discovered... nothing. My mind is full of spontaneity and odd ends. EXCEPT! I realize that I have had three dreams in the past two weeks on the topic of zombies. This is highly unusual. True, I may be a bit more interested in zombies than your average Joe. But I think that hardly merits a series of dreams involving the undead. None of these dreams left me afraid when I woke in the morning, and all of them were remembered in elaborate detail. I can only assume I have more zombie dreams locked in the back of my cluttered brain... mmm, BRAINS...

In my preparations for my upcoming intercontinental travels, I have kept an unconscious tally of how many days I have until my departure. As of this morning, my count had decreased to 7. One week until I leave for Moscow. But that number, however monumental I may have thought it, has been increased to 8. A miscommunication between airline and ILP travel coordinator had brought me the wrong information. Thrice. But now, NOW they have the correct travel dates and times. My itinerary will be mailed to me within the work week. I've waited this long, what's another day? But I have been counting down to the 30th since June! To leave on the 31st seems almost a betrayal. Perhaps I won't tell anyone and just wait an extra 24 hours in the airport. Foolish as it sounds, I have seriously considered it.

Also in preparation for my upcoming travels, I have tried to contact several local friends. In an effort to bid a proper farewell, I feel I need to communicate with all of my contacts in the greater Seattle area to let them know I'm leaving. If I don't say goodbye to them, it's as if I never left. At least, that's the round-about way my mind perceives it. But I regret that I am failing miserably in this endeavor. Most of my evenings have been spent in the comfort of my sister's room (which I am sharing with her, but, as she is usually out with friends in the evenings and on weekends, I consider it as much my own), reading The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society and watching re-runs of Jersey Shore and Arrested Development. Not to say this makes for an unpleasant evening. Quite the contrary, in fact. But it does hinder my goal to spend quality time with my friends before I leave for the next four months. I suppose I ought to consider my extra day in the States to be quite valuable, in this regard.

In any case, I'm happy as a clam. Nervous, granted. But happy.

t h e e . e n d .