The Last Day

It is 7:33 AM at the time of this writing (see Eric? I didn't sleep all day! I was writing this! Proof!). This is my last day in the States before my trip to Peru begins.

Eric, my boyfriend and all around cycling nut left earlier to go ride with some friends out in this godforsaken heat for reasons which I have yet to understand. Here he is:

And here is my artistic interpretation of what he's going to look like when he gets back in:

So since he's out for a while, trying his damnedest to suffer heatstroke, I have a bit of time to begin my log of this last day in the States. I will begin with a complaint. According to the e-mail I received from TnCIS, our flights have been changed over night, and they make zero sense now. I have another artistic representation for you that illustrate the differences between the original flight plan and the new, improved flight plan.

So the short explanation of how this affects my trip is that I get to leave from Nashville an hour and a half earlier (oh, joy!) and get into Peru two hours later than before. That also includes a scenic five hour layover in the lovely Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport.
But for now, I'm going to take a nap until Eric returns. I've got a long day ahead.

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And now I continue with my last day in the States behind me. Everyone has gone to bed or gone home. We had a bit of a party here and I finished my packing. I'm about to go enjoy my last shower in which the water is not contaminated with Pachamama's Revenge (that's the Peruvian equivalent of Monteczuma's Revenge).
I have about two and a half hours left until I start my drive to Nashville.

I'm in some strange place right now. I'm stuck between being so nervous that I'm sick, excited for the things to come---I want to go, I don't want to go. I'm going to miss a few people very, very much, and I'm honestly not sure how to handle it other than sucking it up and dealing with it one day at a time.
Everyone keeps telling me I'll be fine. And that it's going to be a good trip and a fun trip. I know all this, but for some reason their reassurances don't really take the edge off the crazy flashing, noisy warning signal that's going off in my simple, emotional, irrational lizard brain (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triune_brain#The_reptilian_complex).
I have little fear of planes. In truth, I love flying. It's strangely relaxing to me, and I always enjoy clapping when the plane lifts off and saying "Physics triumph once again!"
I also don't mind airports. They aren't the prettiest or most enjoyable things ever, but I'm not bothered by a layover, really.
I'm excited to finally see Peru. It's been a dream of mine since I was a little girl, and Machu Picchu is at the apex of the sites in the world that I must see before I die. Hopefully I won't die until I get to the summit, at least.