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January 31, 2004

One of Those Days

It hit me today, about ten minutes ago. I'm excited to go north. I'm really frickin' excited to go north.

It might come and go in waves, and I might change my attitude shortly, but right now I'm ready for a vacation. I'm ready for a vacation, and warm sunshine, and trees. I'm ready for the distant sounds of children and insects and birds in a park. Ready to do my own gig. To have a backpack on my back, and to travel. To eat fresh, raw carrots. (I realized that two days ago.) I'm reaching the point in the season that I'm supposed to reach; the point at which I'm about to go north, and the point at which I therefore want to go north. The season's winding down. I'm tired. I still love this place, but I'm tired, and I want to go north. And I want to be on vacation. This is a good thing. I usually have just enough field work to keep me engaged, to keep me interested and focused, to keep me feeling as if I've been on a trip, taken a break, been on an adventure which is almost the same thing as vacation anyway, if the adventure is fun. But I haven't been out in the field lately, and things here are starting to wear on me a bit, and all this is good because I want to want to go north. Unfortunately, I have two days of field work left, just before I leave, which may just make my last days feel hectic and may make me want to stay on. But I don't want to want to stay on. I want to want to leave.

The wallpaper on my computer screen is no longer of an Antarctic theme. Today, it is Mayon Volcano, a volcano I had the good fortune of working on in the Philippines. It's beautiful, it's hot, it's sunny. It looks like this:

Posted by beth at January 31, 2004 3:43 PM

Comments

Hey, wait a minute. It's colder here than it is there and I'm not doing anything interesting. Someplace hot and tropical sounds awesome! If you end up someplace like that next, be sure to send lots of pictures and I'll pretend I'm there with you.

Posted by: cousin susan at February 1, 2004 5:10 PM

Don't you remember the mosquitos the size of your head? How about the mud that couldn't be washed off anything? What about the warm sodas?

Posted by: clark at February 3, 2004 7:52 AM