Tomorrow morning I will be stepping into the steaming entrails of the A380, curling up into an awkward ball while I lobotomize myself with movies I will immediately forget and, 24 hours later, I will land in Melbourne, Australia.
Australia holds a very special meaning for me in my "life journey" (don't you love those self-aggrandizing notions, makes me feel like I'll soon be the subject of an Oscar-winning epic starring Julia Roberts). A little over three years ago, I quit my job as a law-firm grunt, moved back in with my parents, bought a backpack and ran away to the land of the 'roo. And started writing a blog. Sound familiar?
So the big question is, have I actually gotten anywhere between then and now?
Well, my blog is certainly more active (the first one died after a grand total of 7 posts).
I have an MBA.
The wrinkles are a tad more pronounced.
And in the recesses of my laptop, about 25,000 words lie in wait, wondering if I'm EVER going to get around to writing what comes next. (I will. I promise.)
So no massive advances, then.
Nevermind. I made a wish on a falling star the night I slept outdoors in Namibia (under a canopy of no less than three very visible galaxies and at least a few planets - and I am pleased to report that stars really do twinkle). And the star told me all was well dans le meilleur des mondes.
So off I go to Australia to see what happens.