****This is one of my old posts that I am leaving up. It has earned its place on the Interwebs
I just finished looking at my calendar for the next three months. My stomach is in knots.
You know that
feeling you get right as you’re getting onto a roller coaster? You get butterflies in your stomach and you
wonder what in the world you’ve gotten yourself into? It’s an intoxicating mix of fear and
excitement. You can’t wait for the thrill
of the drops, but there’s a big hill to climb before you get there.
That’s how I
feel right about now. Like I’ve been standing
in line forever, and now it’s finally my turn to go on the ride of my life. I’m suddenly not entirely sure how I feel
about it. But there’s no going back
now. Everything has been working up to
this, and this is working up to something else. There’s nowhere to go but
forwards.
I am so
ready, and I am so not ready. I love
it. I know it’s going to be weird after
this. Nothing is ever going to be the
same.
Every summer
is like this in a way. I go on some kind
of adventure, and at the end, when I come back home, I’m changed. Dramatically.
Except that
this time, I’m not just going home after the adventures I have. Summer is just the approach trail. The warm-up.
The kiddie ride before taking on the mammoth with eight twists and two
loop-the-loops – all of which you also do going backwards, because YOLO.
Long story
short, I’m about to do the craziest thing a kid with thrill issues could ever
do. I’m going to grow up. And I have no idea what I’m in for. I only know that I’d better hang on to my
hat. Or better yet, just throw my hands
up in the air and let inertia do its thing.
Until next
time,
Rosie Jane
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