Takeoff

Wednesday, June 4th

I'm sitting at the gate, waiting to board my flight to London, and I feel fabulous. And not just because my checked bag barely squeaked by under the weight limit at 48 pounds exactly. The whole ride down I was anxious and queasy, nervous about spending 3 months in a foreign city with a hideous exchange rate. I don’t know what my internship will be like, I still don’t have housing figured out yet . . . a lot of things are up in the air. But it’s fine. I know that everything will work itself out somehow. I’m excited more than anything else. This is exactly what I’m meant to be doing right now, and only good things can come from it.

I don’t know anything about what my tasks will be for my internship, except that my contact lady assured me I wouldn’t “just be making tea,” which strikes me as delightfully British.

And even if my housing isn’t totally figured out, it’s very close. I’ve been writing back and forth quite a bit with a Greek girl who’s lived in London for the past 8 years; she and her flatmate have a 3-bedroom on Museum Street in Bloomsbury, exactly where I want to be. The rent is great, they sound super nice, I can move in right away and stay through the whole summer – it is just about as perfect as you could ask for. I’m going to visit the place this weekend. I really really really hope it works out. I have visions of them showing me how to cook mouth-watering Greek food. Mmm, feta.

They just called boarding. Time to go!

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