Panic

You might be interested to know that my post-world-ticket-purchase glow lasted for about a couple of hours before I had an axiety attack. I wouldn't go as far as saying that I was actually panicking, but I definitely took the time to think: OH MY GOD!!! In less than a year I'll be traveling out of a backpack for 9 months! I won't have my own place! I'm homeless (or living with my parents in Almelo, which could be even worse)! I won't be able to see my cats for almost a year! Will they remember us? Will my fish still be alive (since I think it to be a distinct possibility that my mom 'forgets' to feed them or clean their bowl)? Am I am even the kind of person who likes to travel for so long? The last time that I was away for a long period of time was when I was studying at UCLA, and this was only for 6 months, where I had a room of my own, friends nearby and was operating in a society where everyone speaks English. I like to be at home with my pets. I like to cook. I won't have a homebase at the hostels we'll visit and the only cooking we'll be doing will be on little gas burners in the Australian outback. I was suddenly very afraid of the finality of it all, and it remains scary. Scary in a good way, I hope.