Enthusiasm builds

I’ve always been slow to emote.  It is a blessing and a curse.  Friends give me the best news of their lives and I smile quietly until the synapses fire.  After the evening is over I go home and the reality sinks in.  When I’m insulted face-to-face, it doesn’t get a rise; I can think of a million-and-one witty responses a few hours later.  After a couple of glasses of wine, the emotions come more quickly (like when my friend told me she was pregnant on my birthday last year and I squealed like a stuck pig).  But most of the time I let the surprising information sink in incrementally, then gauge my reaction in an equally measured manner.  It’s been useful for years in dealing with emotionally charged situations at work.  I’ve got what the French call sang froid, (literally "cold blood")--a cool head, we would say in English.  I’m the ultimate emotional procrastinator.  It’s not anything I do on purpose, it’s just the way I’m built, I guess.  So that’s why it’s taken me since I bought my tickets to France in March until now to really get excited.  In March, it was just a distant vision, an apparition of a summer vacation, mixed with a small dose of self-doubt and sadness about leaving some close relationships behind by leaving my job.  In April, it was a drain on my bank account when I paid the credit card bill.  In early May, it was a distraction, a list of things to do, ranked further down from graduations and celebrations and spring clearance events.  Tomorrow is Memorial Day, a time when for many years I’ve been preparing for my annual professional conference and trying to fit some family time in, but today….today I actually started to pack for my seven-week adventure.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my friend Isabel found us a fabulous little B & B in the heart of Barcelona; or maybe it’s that the weather is gloomy and morose, luring me to exotic climes; or perhaps it’s the restlessness of being in the middle of that post-graduation No man’s land before summer session starts….after so many years working in education, I can’t help but think in semesters of the academic calendar.  I have no idea what the impetus, but I am getting excited about my trip.  Eleven days and counting.  If the passports aren’t up-to-date we’re screwed.  No time to diet and exercise more to lose that winter poundage.  Eleven days is just enough time to make lists, gather stuff, contact friends, program phone numbers into my phone, frantically search for hostess gifts, do the laundry, grab a last-minute wine with friends.  Some sort of alarm went off in my brain, and some power of the universe told me it’s time to get thrilled about my upcoming trip.  I’m only too happy to oblige.

The Quadrat d'Or Bed and Breakfast in Barcelona