Suspended Animation
06/02/2009
Is it just me or is it common to feel some sort of awkward pre-travel anxiety? It’s not so much a freak-out as it is a feeling of being in-between, like that feeling where your stomach is catching up with the rest of you when you hit a drop on a roller coaster.
I try to ease it by packing in stages, and it used to give me satisfaction when I managed to fit 4 week’s worth of necessities into my allocated baggage. This time 90% of my baggage does not belong to me, so I really don’t feel any sort of achievement there.
Maybe it’s the prospect of living out of a suitcase for a good 4 weeks. On the one hand, my home is here but I don’t feel at home here. On the other, when I return to my home(land) my home isn’t really there.
Is the dissonance caused anomalies in my definition of home and contentment? Or is it my inability to make lemonade when I have lemons?
