Coffee Versus Espresso

Just four days until I leave all this behind.

I have begun - and so far only when I'm alone - to convulse like I'm either going to start weeping or vomit but thankfully just do the warm up part, not the actual full on freak out. Once when I looked at my dog sleeping in her fluffy bed in the breakfast room, once when driving up Nolensville Rd and realized how different this growing area will look by the time I get back, and again just now as I placed a towel in my suitcase as I try to gauge just how realistic I've been on estimates of what I can take with me.

The stress of "new school," "first day at my dream job," and the way to big for my head thoughts like, "I'm really living my dream to give my life for GOD and THE SALVATION OF THE WORLD!!!" is a little over whelming. The rational part of my brain is trying to focus on the size of my future closet and trying desperately to remember those last minute things. My room is a disaster of piles and empty hangers. I'm going to sleep in the guest bed again.

These are the days when coffee choices are important. I made the mistake of ordering the wrong thing today. You see, my dad left his cell phone at home - something he never does so I knew that he would feel blind without it. So, I decided to surprise him with a visit from me for lunch. But, he had a business lunch already scheduled so I spent most lunch talking to my dad's associates about what I'm about to try to do. I think my dad and I about burst into tears three different times. We're fine. Handling it great. Happy, happy, happy. At least I left lunch feeling unbelievably supported my him and the other guys - as baffled as some of them were that my dad would allow his daughter to live halfway around the world, when, as one guy said, he doesn't like his married 30 year old daughter to leave the Hermitage area alone.

From there I went to my mom's school to bring her some Advil and Diet Coke as she had burned her hand pretty bad last night and needed help to make it through the day. On the way I stopped at the Bucks. In an attempt to save money and prove that I'm a grown up that can drink real coffee and not just the mamby-pamby girlie drinks, and therefore can completely handle all that life may give me, I deviated from my tall non-fat latte with two Spenda and got a basic cup of dark roast. Four sips into it and my stomach revolted and my heart started for race. Clearly I was way too wound up to be drinking coffee.

Fortunately, I didn't push myself to drink any more and all was well. I was able to get my mom her meds, teach a teacher how to croucet a hat during recess, sat through the third grade's program during at assembly, and read to my mom's fifth graders til the end of the school day. By the time I left I was hungry and had a headach. This time I got my drink and all was well with the world. Paking could resume and my dog did not have to deal with a crazy person.

I'm going to miss espresso during training, but at least they have plenty of tea.

I'm not touching the coffee.