Two Weeks?!

Yes, the last post was about leaving, and so is this one. Hope you like repetitiveness.

I looked at my calendar today and I have exactly two weeks before I get on a plane to get back home. I can't believe I've been gone for almost half a year. I remember preparing to leave (the nerves!), the beginning (préstage was fantastic) and the last few weeks really well, everything in between, however, has blurred together and it seems like it all passed so quickly (everybody together now: "I told you so!"). Tomorrow I start my finals (ugh... this is going to be interesting, to say the least), then go on one last trip to Brussels, come home, pack all night, and leave Triolet (and then I don't leave France until almost a week later...it's complicated).

I'll keep it short, I'm sure I'll have a lot of sappy stuff to say after finals and our last get-together before people start to leave, or when the train departs from Montpellier and I won't see this place again...maybe forever, or when I fly out of this country I've called home for the last few months, so I'll save it.

For now I'll just say that I'm incredibly torn. When I'm stressed trying to study for exams, or eating beans straight out of the can for the millionth time, or having to push a button every 30 seconds to take a shower; those are the times I can't wait to go home and celebrate Christmas, be with my family, curl up in my own bed. And then sometimes I help an old French woman who is lost, or go out for a run (finally started that thing again) and go to Comédie, or realize how great it is being able to study outside in the sun in the middle of December, among other things, and I realize how sad I'll be leaving. I go back an forth several times a day. It's weird.