I go home today.

WHAT AM I GONNA DO, Y’ALL?!?

How am I going to live in my one little room and sit at my office and do all these normal things every day!? HOW am I not going to eat that insane cheese I ate yesterday, or not bike through adorable, windy streets, or not meet all these wacky beautiful people? Or not learn Italian BY TALKING TO REAL-LIFE ITALIANS!?

You guys. I love my life. Really – I have a great life. Like, the best. But traveling is better. Not better – differently awesome.

Naaw, fuck it. It’s better.

And now I’m going home, and I know it will feel good to sleep in my bed and see my friends and not smell disgusting* all the time.

* Lack of morning routine = constant forgetting of deodorant.

And I will be happy to be able to read street signs and laxative instructions and communicate without sounding like a 2-year-old. I am excited about all of those things, but goddamn, I’m going to miss this.

And what SUPER-sucks is that I haven’t even written about like half of the places I’ve been!

AAAAARRRGHHHHBRLGRFSOFDKLJSDFLJ&*$%^@#!

I watched this thing on Shakira a few years ago (hear me out)… She wrote this song, right? It was a commission for a Coke commercial or something dumb like that. And she loved the song she wrote, but the suits who asked her to write it were like “your song sucks, write another one” and she was all “I gave birth to this song and now it exists and it’s my child and it will die without a purpose and now I’m in mourning, etc., etc., blah, blah, ay-ay-ay…” It was real dramatic.

That’s similar to how I feel about not writing about these other places. Like I’m choosing not to pick up my kid from preschool or something.