Kicking It Into High Gear
The packing is finished, even the books. Courtney and Jess are coming over tonight; they will remain overnight, and then we will progress with Dad to PHC at an indecently early hour tomorrow morning.
We remain at PHC until 5 pm, unpacking, and then collect Peter (a caregroup member, fellow CLCite, and now a PHC freshman) for the trip home. Thursday night I shall probably spend making alterations to my bridesmaid's dress. Friday morning I am due at the church to help arrange flowers, Friday afternoon is the wedding rehearsal, and Saturday is, of course, the wedding. It begins at 2 pm; I'll be lucky if I get home before midnight.
Sunday morning is church at CLC, followed by a hasty lunch, a final packing dash, and the last trip to PHC, which will install me for good and real. It is at this point that I shall probably collapse. Let them scrape me off the floor for T. in History with Sanders at 8 AM the next morning.
I am tired; I can't seem to stop sleeping. This is very strange to me since, ordinarily, I am unable to sleep at all during the day. Now my body demands constant rest. Mom thinks it is stress, but I don't feel stressed. I must be, though. My back muscles have been tying themselves into progressively tighter knots over the last few days. Combination of going back to school, leaving my family, and trying to be a bridesmaid in between, I suppose.
The list of administrative details which must be seen to is appalling. I know that my nerves are frayed. I know that I am overwrought. But I know these things in a distant manner. All I feel is weariness, a certain hatred for the very thought of PHC--not my friends, of course, but the leaving home aspect--and a deep-seated desire to let the rest of the week pass over my unresisting consciousness.
If only I could let it all happen to me and refuse to take any of it in... actually, I suppose that that is what my mind is doing, or trying to do. There is a thick, opaque wall in my thoughts, which stands between me and anything outside of the next hour. In the next hour I go with Mama to pick my cousin Sarah up from the airport. I love Sarah; I am looking forward to seeing her. She will be living in my room and attending college here in the States--my uncle and his family are missionaries in Mexico--while I am at PHC. There is nothing outside of this trip to the airport. Nothing at all.
Nevertheless, it's an awfully oppressive "nothing"!
Please pray.
We remain at PHC until 5 pm, unpacking, and then collect Peter (a caregroup member, fellow CLCite, and now a PHC freshman) for the trip home. Thursday night I shall probably spend making alterations to my bridesmaid's dress. Friday morning I am due at the church to help arrange flowers, Friday afternoon is the wedding rehearsal, and Saturday is, of course, the wedding. It begins at 2 pm; I'll be lucky if I get home before midnight.
Sunday morning is church at CLC, followed by a hasty lunch, a final packing dash, and the last trip to PHC, which will install me for good and real. It is at this point that I shall probably collapse. Let them scrape me off the floor for T. in History with Sanders at 8 AM the next morning.
I am tired; I can't seem to stop sleeping. This is very strange to me since, ordinarily, I am unable to sleep at all during the day. Now my body demands constant rest. Mom thinks it is stress, but I don't feel stressed. I must be, though. My back muscles have been tying themselves into progressively tighter knots over the last few days. Combination of going back to school, leaving my family, and trying to be a bridesmaid in between, I suppose.
The list of administrative details which must be seen to is appalling. I know that my nerves are frayed. I know that I am overwrought. But I know these things in a distant manner. All I feel is weariness, a certain hatred for the very thought of PHC--not my friends, of course, but the leaving home aspect--and a deep-seated desire to let the rest of the week pass over my unresisting consciousness.
If only I could let it all happen to me and refuse to take any of it in... actually, I suppose that that is what my mind is doing, or trying to do. There is a thick, opaque wall in my thoughts, which stands between me and anything outside of the next hour. In the next hour I go with Mama to pick my cousin Sarah up from the airport. I love Sarah; I am looking forward to seeing her. She will be living in my room and attending college here in the States--my uncle and his family are missionaries in Mexico--while I am at PHC. There is nothing outside of this trip to the airport. Nothing at all.
Nevertheless, it's an awfully oppressive "nothing"!
Please pray.
posted by Praelucor at 11:55 AM
1 Comments:
I'll be praying for you -- you're going to make it :). Remember, this, too, shall pass.
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