Three More Days

Almost out of this lovely frustrating beautiful annoying magical nightmarish place. Maybe my times at Stanford weren’t exactly perfect, but they’ll provide for plenty of food for thought on that long 20-hour plane ride back to the rest of my life. I wonder how I’ll feel when that plane takes off, because that’s when it really hits me (the departure, not the airsickness) — maybe I’ll be able to smile and tell myself (like I have my friends here, sorry) that it’s ok, that’s how life goes, we move on. Or maybe I’ll fully comprehend the real loss that taking off from this foreign land actually is for me.

My sentence structures obviously haven’t improved any in four years.

Three more days, and we’ll be through, as the song goes.