hurry up and wait

I had a conversation with a friend last night (over whiskey and beer) about my propensity to willingly dive off the deep end. I tend to voluntarily engage in difficult scenarios that require a certain kind of insanity and drive. Whether it’s a 15-year-old me vowing to perform again in Carnegie Hall, my love of skydiving, deciding after 16 years of pursuing violin that I’d rather be a Foreign Service Officer, singing up for an intensive Arabic Language institute where you're not allowed to speak English for 8 weeks, taking an incredibly ridiculous bus ride across the Sinai Peninsula, or taking the plunge by agreeing to move to a country I’ve never visited with a limited knowledge of the local language, I am (for some reason) attracted to a certain kind of “crazy.” I think it’s what makes things exciting. I don’t see the point in perpetually existing inside my comfort zone. That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy time at home wearing my signature outfit of a massive cashmere sweater and yoga pants, but I seem to have developed an incurable attraction to adventure. I don’t make impulsive life decisions, and the decision to move to Morocco may seem like a bombshell at the moment, but I’ve been jumping through the hoops of Peace Corps’ application and screening processes for over a year. 

Peace Corps’ medical clearances are notoriously rigorous and expensive. I’ve been working on mine since July, and finally completed it yesterday. My documents were accepted, and I’ve been cleared by the Peace Corps Medical office. A lot of people drop out at this stage, and I can understand why. It’s months and months of doctors visits, dental exams, surgery (in my case), and invasive questions about my medical history. It’s also unbelievably expensive. I think that overall, I’ve been responsible for about $7500 worth of bills for office visits, exams, lab tests, and surgeries not covered by insurance. It’s a terribly stressful process, and luckily it’s almost over. I’m still waiting on confirmation of the dental clearance, as they were unable to read the notes my dentist wrote (insert joke about doctors having terrible handwriting)… 

As of today, it’s two months before I’m slated to leave for Morocco. My inner pendulum of excitement and panic has recently been swinging more and more vigorously to the extremes. But to be honest, I’m ready to go. I’m sick of sitting here waiting for things to start happening. I’m sick of the mass of boxes in my apartment. I’m sick of wondering and worrying about what it’ll be like to walk out of the airport in Rabat with only my suitcase and backpack. I just want to dive in. To, again, quote Mindy Kaling, “I feel like my life is buffering.”