This week has been a pretty stressful one. My fridge started playing up last weekend and by Tuesday, had given up the ghost entirely. I came home late on Tuesday evening to find the fridge silent, water on the floor and my food defrosting. Cue panic. Thankfully my landlord has been amazing in getting it all sorted out and quickly, but it was still awful chucking out bag after bag of uneaten, inedible, soggy food. It was also kind of gross. It hadn’t started rotting, thankfully, but that kind of smell was starting to set in as I cleared the last of it Thursday morning before work.
It was not a good time for it. I’m going on holiday very soon and I did not need to be dealing with clearing out and cleaning my fridge, I have so much else to do. I am thankful it didn’t fail whilst I was on holiday but I’d rather it would not fail at all.
My thoughts on my holiday have been changing a lot these past few months – excitement, nervousness, maybe even a tiny bit of dread, guilt for feeling that, more nervousness, and now pure stress. I have such a long to do list. I honestly thought I had so much more time than I ultimately did. I did not expect it to come round so quickly. I have not yet come to terms with the fact that I am going home in less than a week, and before that, less than a month, two months. It seemed so far off. I am not prepared in all the ways.
The house is kind of messy and unorganised, I am not packed, I only just finished off my laundry today and bought my travel insurance today too. I haven’t yet gone to the doctor to sort out my travel sickness meds and it’s looking increasingly likely I won’t be able too (good job, self) I wanted to get my hair cut, didn’t happen, though I did manage to get my brows waxed at least. I think I have mostly bought everything I need, apart from a couple of items, but of course it’s too late now. One item is stuck in the post and I’m very worried it won’t come before I leave and what if the postman can’t fit it through my letterbox? I am worried about all the food rotting away in my black bin outside, which won’t be collected for three weeks (thankfully it’s still winter…) I am worried about coping with the hot weather in Cape Town, and with the water restrictions happening over there right now. I am nervous about meeting my family again for the first time in years, and staying with them (especially with my odd eating habits ) I am feeling self conscious – about my weight, about my acne and my eczema, just how I look in general. When you meet someone again in a long while you want to look fabulous. I don’t feel particularly fabulous. Just tired and a little run down. That, and I am dreading any questions about the vertical scars on my wrists. I do not want to talk about those. And it’s not like I can hide them in the heat (It’s going to be hard enough hiding the scars on my thighs. I’ve got maxi dresses and loose cotton jumpsuits so I’m hoping I will not have to resort to shorts. Please no. Between my scars and my cellulite I just cannot.)
It’s so hard to focus on work right now, all I can think of is I am going home. I am being really obnoxious and talking about it at every opportunity I get, like a child counting down to their birthday. I just, I can’t believe next week I will be going home. I wonder how much it has changed? I wonder how my family are, and if we will get on? I wonder if I will enjoy it? I hope I enjoy it. I hope I don’t embarrass myself or my parents in front of my family. I feel like, this is either going to be amazing or a complete disaster. I feel that either way this is going to change everything, but that placing that kind of gravity to it is only setting myself up for disappointment.
Either way, it seems to really be happening. Ready or not, I’m going home.