1 day!

I really like roller coasters. I can't say I LOVE them, because I always need to be convinced to go on the really scary ones and I'm not always brave enough to release my hands from the handlebar. I also really like water slides.

But no, I'm not going to compare my emotions to a roller coaster ride. Or a water slide. My emotions are not speeding up or plunging down or loop-de-looping, or corkscrewing or performing any other roller-coaster-like manuever. And I don't even feel like I'm on a roller coaster, either, because when riding a roller coaster I generally feel a steady emotion of "wheeee!" (with the exception of the Hulk rollercoaster in Universal Studios, which gave me a steady feeling of "ouch" because it kept painfully knocking my head around).

Here is how this post relates to The Gambia: You know that feeling when you're waiting in line for the roller coaster? One of the really popular ones, that has a super-long line. And not one of those ones where you zoom off from the ground; one of those ones that require several flights of steps to reach the start, so that your initial nervous anticipation is compounded by the fear of tripping backwards down several flights of stairs or falling over the railing. And all those clusters of people are chickening out and squeezing past you so the line is all squashed and gross. So you really can't wait to reach the top, to get this all this nervousness and squashiness over with, and you also really can't wait, because it's a roller coaster, and you really like roller coasters and you know it's going to be amazingly awesome and fun. But then when the people right in front of you are getting loaded in, you wish there were an additional flight of stairs AT THE EXACT SAME TIME that you wish you were those people because you just can't wait any longer to ride the amazingly awesome and fun roller coaster (well, you assume it will be amazingly awesome and not like the Hulk).

And that's how I feel right now. Like I'm waiting in line for a roller coaster.

4 days!

Stuff I could be writing instead of "stuff," courtesy of thesaurus.com:

• being
• effects
• equipment
• gear
• goods
• impedimenta
• individual
• junk
• kit
• luggage
• objects
• paraphernalia
• possessions
• substance
• tackle
• things
• trappings

5 days!

Stuff I learned how to do, courtesy of the Peace Corps application process:

• Condense a semester's worth of cross-cultural experience into 500 words
• Schedule doctors' appointments
• Schedule dentists' appointments
• Schedule oral surgeons' appointments
• Navigate southern Maryland public transportation
• Find way home after navigation failures
• Ride the DC Metro
• Keep size-9-wide shoes on my feet by stuffing socks into the toes
• Ride a creepy elevator without dying
• Check e-mail compulsively
• Check mailbox compulsively
• Curse the existence of wisdom teeth 
• Praise the existence of FedEx
• Not panic.

I also gained a collection of amusing stories involving bus rides, postal workers, and "abnormal" urine.

6 days!

Stuff I considered instead of the Peace Corps:

• Running away to the circus, where I would be qualified to sell popcorn and scoop elephant dung
• Opening factories to manufacture my brilliant ideas, which I would disclose here, except they're too brilliant
• Touring Switzerland in search of my future husband (he will be a chocolatier)
• Carving jack-o-laterns, professionally
• Learning how to juggle while unicycling across a tightrope
• Running away to the circus, where I would be qualified to juggle while unicycling across a tightrope
• Becoming gainfully employed somewhere marvelous (with "marvelous" defined as "sometimes I get to wear high heels and feel grown-up" and "somewhere" never defined)
• Running away to the circus, where I initially sell popcorn and scoop elephant dung. During the circus' off-season (October) I carve jack-o-lanterns and sell them. In the evenings, I learn how to juggle while unicycling across a tightrope. The circus promotes me to lead juggler-while-unicycling-across-a-tightrope. I join the circus on its tour of Europe. In Switzerland, a dashing chocolatier attends a performance and is blown away by my juggling and tightrope-unicycling skills. He proposes marriage. I become gainfully employed at his chocolate shop, where I build displays out of chocolate while wearing high-heels. In my spare time, I open some factories. And in the mornings, I eat canoles.

7 days!

Next Tuesday evening I will not be sitting on an IKEA couch with my feet propped on the coffee table, smelling chopped parsley and typing on a laptop. I will be in a hotel in Philadelphia. Here is a photo of my most recent trip to Philly, two-and-a-half years ago:

Yes, those are fencing gloves on my hands. I am supposed to be fencing at a tournament, but am instead hopelessly lost in Philadelphia. Luckily, I am lost with Jen, who lent me a left-handed glove and a hooded sweatshirt. It is absolutely freezing cold, and I have no idea why I am smiling.

Here is how this post relates to The Gambia: It doesn't.

8 days!

Stuff I won't miss:

• High-pitched barking alerting me to the man/child/chipmunk crossing the street
• Commercials for Bob's Discount Furniture
• Disgruntled Pizza Hut customers

Stuff I will miss:

• Walking barefoot
• IKEA
• That sound of boots crunching through snow
• A long list of people (well, the list would be long, were I to actually write it)

I know, I know, these lists are pathetic. They're longer in my mind, but it is now 7:06 and it's time for me to watch a movie.

9 days!

Stuff I should be thinking about:

• How many shirts should I bring, exactly?
• Did I buy enough AAA batteries? 
• Will I contract malaria?
• Will those snail parasites crawl under my toenails?
• What if I discover I no longer like mangoes?

Stuff I'm actually thinking about:

• Will I finish The Liar's Club and the three other books I borrowed from the library?
• Are the cakes sitting on the counter delicious, or inedible?
• How much longer until lunchtime?
• Why didn't I wear socks on Thursday?
• Is there still time for me to memorize the lyrics to "Bruxelles"?

I think if I thought the thoughts I should be thinking, I would be sucked into such a frenzy of excitement that I would collapse to the floor in a coma-like state, probably scraping a knee in the process.