The tracking number on my visa finally shows that it's in the mail, so I emailed my principal to tell her the great news. She responded by sending me my ticket confirmation and the teacher handbook for the school. In true Nikki fashion, this sent me into a spiral of panic.
I suddenly don't want to go (again).
The principal didn't send me anything I wasn't expecting; of course I'll need a ticket to fly out, and of course I'll need to create a power point to introduce myself to the class. And, honestly, some of the things in the handbook were downright exciting: per the school's curriculum guide, I'll be teaching fairy tales once a week, and once a month we have a party in the gym to celebrate learning. I mean, how fun is that? Perhaps it's simply my aversion to grown-up responsibilities, but I'm being flooded with an irresistible urge to call everything off and disappear to Neverland. I know I need to make money, and I know that I'm excited about this adventure, but I also know that I've enjoyed hanging out with my little sister and favorite nephew every morning this week, and I know that I like having immediate access to a Graeter's whenever the craving hits. I know that I desperately want to go on this adventure, and I know that I desperately want to stay.
I suppose it's not too late to back out. I could apologize profusely to the school, probably have to reimburse them for my flight, and head back to Cincinnati to rejoin the life I left behind only a week ago. I'm sure I haven't missed much. But going back to Cincinnati instead of off to K-land will guarantee me to miss something. I'll miss my adventure. I'll miss out on the friends I could have made and the stories I could have told. From this end, the whole adventure is terrifying. A "Mr. YJ" is meeting me at the airport in four days - FOUR DAYS - and I'll be thrown headfirst into a country that doesn't (entirely) speak my language and a culture that is still a complete mystery to me. But the beginning of everything new should be a little fear-inducing; life is too short to make the comfortable choice every time. I remember the first time I went to Young Life camp in high school - it was a week trip to Georgia with people I knew, and I panicked. My Young Life leader had to actually come to my house and repack the bags I had strewn across my room, and I ended up having a fabulous time. This time, there's no one to repack my bags. If I took everything out, my family would breathe a collective sigh of relief and Korea would just be another crazy scheme Nikki backed out of. This time, it's up to me to keep it all together.
On a related note, most of this sudden panic is likely linked to PMS. I can just see all the men reading this nodding along, thinking to themselves, "yeah, you women go crazy!" And you know what? It's absolutely true. Once a month, my hormones and emotions fly off the charts, and there's not a darn thing I can do about. So suck it up and bring me some ice cream.