Why copy a challenge when you can make up one for yourself? Hehehe…
13 Day Challenge! (made by moi!)
Day 1 - One life motto in your own words
Day 2 - Two ambiguous pictures
Day 3 - Three principles that you live by
Day 4 - Four pieces of advice you want to pass on to someone in the future (cough kids cough) when they’re at your current age
Day 5 - Five quotes.
Day 6 - Six events you didn’t expect to happen in your life
Day 7 - Seven songs that would for sure make your life playlist
Day 8 - Eight dreams for your future
Day 9 - Nine pictures of things that still your breath away and make you appreciate life.
Day 10 - Ten sentence note to that special someone (future, past, or present)
Day 11 - Eleven foods that you would be a fattie for.
Day 12 - Twelve letters to just anyone in your life
Day 13 - One word to sum up your life. Two pictures of something that made you smile this day. Three things that make you proud. Three promises (they don’t have to be lifelong ones). Two shoutouts. One picture of just anything. Anddd one song to end this with a BAM!
After reading Eat, Pray, Love, I got it my head to do my own journaling about my experience abroad since I’m going away for about a year too. I’m not going to three different places…but, still, it will be a life changing experience and I’m at that time or place in my life where you need to go on a journey to challenge yourself and discover new extents of yourself.
So while all these happy thoughts about Germany floated around in my head, I fell asleep at 5:30 in the morning as that was the time I finally finished Eat, Pray, Love.
Then I dreamed.
This is nothing new really. Dreaming tends to happen a lot in the summer as I actually sleep long enough to hit the REM part of my sleeping cycle - and stay there long enough to dream and remember what happened. So as my sleeping self neared waking up, I dreamed that I was rushing through the airport towards the gate that would take me off to Deutschland. As usual, I’m running on a bit of a tight schedule because there’s always some last minute thing to confirm, a what-is-it-again something I can’t seem to quite remember but I’m sure I desperately need, and this must all be taken care so griddle up, girl, and rush rush rush because you’re going to cut it close again and you know it.
So there I am, rushing wildly through the airport because oh shit the airline is already calling out people’s group numbers to begin boarding. God help me, but I’m pretty sure I should already be boarding because Mom and Dad always insists that I get a seat near the beginning or middle of the plane (honestly, wherever in the plane is fine with me as long as it’s quiet enough for me to knock out). Then the horrifying truth hits me - I don’t know if I have my plane ticket. I scramble to the counter next to the gate. Alright, I can talk to these people and, I mean, I’m sure I couldn’t have been that careless…maybe the ticket’s actually right here in my wallet or in my planner…but if I don’t surely they can print another copy for me here.
I rush to the counter and talk to the nice lady there, but I’m tapping my foot and scrambling through my huge bag as she obviously is oblivious to my plight since she’s taking her time writing out where I should get and pick up my new copy of my ticket. I pull out my planner - my Pres planner - in desperate hope to find my ticket when I feel a bit chilly up my legs. I look down and I realize, I’m not wearing my leggings. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m just wearing my oversized grey USD sweater and just my blue undies.
These desperate moments in my dreams usually break for a moment of lucid dreaming. I turn over in my bed, and think, I’ll sleep just a bit longer. I’m sure I can solve this in a little bit.
With this resolve, I’m back at the counter. I grab the instructions the counter attendant gives me, say a quick thank you, and rush away from the gate. Right, so first, I’m going to the bathroom. I find it and then I realize, ha, ha, like I would pack extra pants in my carry-on. Well, this sweater is rather big…hopefully no one notices. Slightly too short sweater dress, anyone?
Dream karma thinks this is funny, because the next thing I realize, I have my period. Huh. Well then…maybe Mom should have come with me to Germany.
At this point, dream me gives up. I wake up, because honestly, there’s no way to solve all that ridiculousness in “a little bit”. Also, the idea that I might welcome my Mom coming with me to Germany to “drop me off” at school at the age of 20 is a bit demoralizing.
In other news, my North Face boots for Germany arrived.
I love being home and being around people who have made me who I’m and are my support system…But my god, I love being away too. There’s an irreplaceable zen that comes from being far away from family.
I think.
Mom and Dad snooped through my Facebook pictures over the weekend when I accidentally didn’t log out of my account. They, oddly enough, didn’t notice the pictures where I’m drunk and making smoochie faces with some males but do notice the pictures when I’m completely sober, sweaty from the gym, but oh to close too a male friend.