In two weeks, I’ll be moving out of the tiny apartment I’ve lived in since September 2013. Work is busy and I’m working some really strange hours, but hopefully I can get everything done in time to leave.

Nearly every night for the past week, I’ve dreamed of Flag Day, the day about 5 weeks into training that we find out our new country. Last night I dreamed it was Australia. The night before that, Angola. A couple nights before that, Mexico. I actually now believe that wherever I end up, I’ll be fine.  Having never lived in a cold-weather place, I shudder to think of ice and snow, but I hope to be able to adapt. Or at least buy some really warm clothes.

Every once in awhile (about 4-5 times per day) I’ll be walking along, doing my business as usual, when it will hit me that my life is about to change dramatically. I will not miss my current location too terribly, but I’ve met some really good people along the way and I’ll be sad to say goodbye. My going away dinner is set for next weekend. My last day of my current job the Tuesday after that. Time enough for some goodbyes.

I like saying “hello” so much better!

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