The Suitcase is Half-Empty

In three days I will be sitting in a plane half-way across the country; in four days I will be arriving in Bordeaux. This is both terrifying and exciting. I've been waiting all summer for this day. A week ago, I wished that I could just GO. Now I feel more conflicted, I WANT to go, but I also want to stay home. I want to hang out in my comfy bed, with my pillows, my dog, and book to keep me company. At the same time I want to get up and DO something, have an adventure. But the adventure is coming too fast.
How am I going to get a taxi? What will I say to the taxi driver? What if they won't let me through customs? What if I can't remember a single word of French? How am I going to fit my life into my suitcase?
All the same, I know it will be okay. I will survive, and hopefully have a fantastic time. I haven't even started and still I feel that when it's over I will wish for more time. Then again, perhaps I will feel differently when I have started.

So far packing has gone better then expected, but I suspect that as the time to leave draws near, the temptation to over-pack will consume the rest of the space in my suitcase.

Optimists insist this suitcase is "half-empty"
Pessimists point out that sweatshirts, coats, and jackets are likely to make it more than "half-full"

Meanwhile, Zoee and I try to figure out how to fit her in the suitcase