This Must Be What It Feels Like To Go Sky Diving

Words cannot describe the feeling of sheer terror I felt on Tuesday morning when I left. I have never been more nervous and plane sick in my life and the three hour flight from Denver to San Francisco was the worst flight I have ever been on. The best way to describe the way I was feeling is to compare it to going sky diving. Now, only handful of people have actually been skydiving (Kelly – you go GIRL! (I do suggest you hire a manager now)) but I would consider the two experiences very similar. When you decide you are going to hurl your body from a moving plane thousands of feet in the air, you sound like a fun, adventurous person. You tell everyone that you are going to sky dive on October 26^th. Everyone is super impressed and they have lots of questions about it. They tell you that they could never do such a thing, but that you are amazing for doing so. The day comes and you feel slightly nauseous thinking “what did I get myself into?” Despite any reservations you get into the car to go to the airport. You fill out paperwork, get all suited up and board the plane. You have the entire plane ride to think about what you signed yourself up for and to consider the consequences of your decision. Then the time comes where you have to stand up, walk to the open door, close your eyes and jump.

Ok, now change the sky diving to moving to Korea and the story is exactly how I felt that morning, minus the jump suit and actually jumping from the plane. The jumping in my experience is slightly more metaphorical. I think I can best sum up my feelings by what I said through my tears when I had to say goodbye to my darling Julie (having you gotten that manager yet?): “It has been fun talking about it but I don’t actually want to do this.” In short, I was scared shitless (sorry Mom!) and if I had gotten a dollar for every time I thought “What did I get myself into?” I would be a millionaire.