The tendency to feel as though I may be able to jump out of my own skin and forward in time to the very day I leave is unshakable. It may exist inside me and only intensify until the very moment I am landed in Belfast and my feet have stood upon Northern Irish soil. It doesn't seem so silly now the request my friend's mother made that I bring back for her a nice rock for her collection upon my return to America in January. I want so much now to do the same for myself; Maybe I'll start a collection of rocks from all the countries I visit instead of resuming the collection of flags I have acquired over the last few years of journeying with my grandparents.
Until then, I will pass the time at home with as much reading as I am able to indulge in. That escape, along with the progress of a solid outline for a writing project I began 5 years ago, should be enough at this time to calm my racing soul.