Sitting in my living room watching musicals on DVD and researching travel insurance. Yay, my life.
I'm not happy. But I will be. I want to daydream through the woods in Wales and explore the winding streets of English villages. I am going to go swimming at completely inappropriate times of the year when my lips will go blue and I want to wear the completely wrong shoes when I go walking so my feet are covered in blisters. I want to eat disgusting meals I've bought in supermarkets and blow my last couple of dollars/pounds/euros/whatever on some time at an internet cafe so I can send emails lamenting my financial situation to the people waiting at home. But not home because home is what and where you make it and I plan to make it wherever I am for the next few months.
I want to hear strange accents that make me doubt that I've heard people right when they talk to me. I want to get lost in strange places while it's dark and raining and I just want to get somewhere warm and dry and familiar. I want to get so tired I fall asleep on trains and I want to get so hungry that I consider eating dairy again just because it's available. I want to just give up because everything's gone to hell and I want to come home and I miss what I had.
I want to come back to University desperate to study again because of all the life experiences I've had that have led me back to higher education. I want to outwear my welcome with people in other countries who I barely know but foolishly offered their couch to me. I want to want more than I can have in other countries and I want to want more than I can have from this trip.
When I feel completely overwhelmed at work and I resent the way I'm spending my summer, I remember just how greedy I am about my travelling plans. I'm not happy. But I will be.