15 days left. There’s this explainable squeamish feeling… Not exactly in a bad way. I guess I’m excited. A part of me wants to go out there to explore and experience a different way of life. Yet a part of me is afraid – afraid that something might go wrong. (Now I kind of have this inane fear that my winter jacket is going to get scratched up and I’ll freeze to death)

I’m not sure what awaits me. Not sure who my roommate is, how’s she going to be like. I hope she’s a hygiene freak and OCD maniac like me, especially with their recycling-friendly rubbish-throwing system.

But I guess it’s true when they say travelling allows you to discover yourself better, to grow and to mature. It’s going to be the first time where I’ll be apart from my family for so long. I’m not one who actually misses home that easily but I think the coldness and lack of an adult by my side might make me want to fly home in an instant.

P.S. I should be studying but I really can’t focus at all. Argh.


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