First-kiss excited and bully-fight scared.
This is the day before departure, packing the bike, trying to make it all fit with some semblance of order to a backing track of Jekyll and Hyde saying, “Do I really need all of this shit?” and “What am I forgetting?”
But this is evidence of forward movement, a huge relief after a year of planning, researching, worrying, projecting, saving, calculating, doubting, and wondering if it’s such a great idea to quit a job during a global recession. The unglamorous truth is that trip preparation is mostly wasting time: earning paychecks and not spending them, researching without creating more bogeymen than actually exist, creating a plan without destroying the essence of travel.
Enough. Tomorrow I kiss my dream girl, who could close her eyes and sigh, or bite my tongue and lift my wallet. I finally face the bully too, and since this ain’t the movies there’s a chance I’ll get clocked good before I see it coming.
This ain’t the movies.
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