Before big trips -- and my friends have heard me whine about this enough that any of them reading this post have probably already zoned out -- I experience growing and almost overwhelming dread. It's so bad as to be disabling at times -- I simply shut down and stop preparing. It's not anxiety about planes crashing or something specific going wrong. It's connected somehow to leaving. I don't want to go away from home. I don't want to miss the flowers and vegetables that will bloom and ripen in my yard while I'm gone. I don't want -- in my gut at least (my head knows the truth) -- to see new places and experience the wonders of the world. Rationally, I know that once the trip starts I'll relish it and in the future look back on those places I visited as homes-away-from-home. But right now, with only five days left before I leave for a five week gallivant around the Middle East, Spain and Morocco, well, right now I'd rather have a root canal.

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Labels: cowells, travels