Set in Stone

My ticket to France has been purchased. I'm leaving January 3rd. It's set in stone. I'm going.

I also now have everything together to (finally) apply for my visa. Yay! I have an appointment at the French consulate Monday morning.

Any time I get down, my new way to deal with it will be to repeat to myself over and over I'm going to France, I'm going to France, I'm going to France!

Seriously, how dare I even think about getting depressed when I have a whole 6-month, all-expenses-paid trip to France awaiting me?

Me 1: (in a fetal position) My life is bleak.

Me 2: (incredulous) Are you serious?

Me 1: (nodding weakly, sighing) Everything is so uncertain. I mean, there are so many things I'm unsure about . . . who knows what I'm going to do when I get back from France --

Me 2: I'm sorry? Did you just say "when I get back from France"? You haven't even left yet! Why on Earth are you worrying about when you get back?

Me 1: (burying face in hands) I know . . . nobody understands . . . I wish things weren't this way . . . it's just so hard to deal with the contradictions of myself and being so analytical yet so emotional and not knowing what to do and feeling like I don't know what I'm doing and wishing I had never --

Me 2: (getting up, grabbing Me 1 by the shoulders and shaking her) You're killing me! Listen, you have been handed an opportunity to go live in another country for 6 months and your only responsibilities are learning French and being a good American. And everything's paid for! So, please, cut the existential angst crap and go SAT yourself down somewhere. I mean, really. You're so annoying.

Me 1: (sniffling) Sorry.

Me 2: (feeling perhaps she had been a little harsh) It's all right. C'mere. (gives Me 1 a sympathetic hug) Just do yourself a favor and skip the David Gray songs on your iPod for a while, okay? Stick with your Motown oldies playlist for now.

Me 1: (smiling slowly) Okay.