It seems like the longer I wait to post, the harder it is for me to talk about the trip. Everything that's transpired in the past two weeks has all but overshadowed my trip, but I swear I am going to sit down and write about it....Eventually.
One contributing factor to the difficulty in writing about the trip is the fact that the only computer I have access to these days is here at work. And it's a little hard to reminisce about my time in Belize when there are actual work things I should be doing. That, and I can't upload my photos here. The computer at the house has been in the shop for, oh, about FOREVER, and rumor has it that it will return to our computer desk sometime in the next week or so. Having fallen victim to a debilitating virus, the whole thing was stripped down and rebuilt, and it seems to be taking its sweet time to recuperate. Once it is home, purring away in its spot in the front room of the house, posting my photos and recounting my jaunts through my very first foreign country should be no problem.
It's also a bit overwhelming. Where do I start? What do I write about? There's so much. But at the same time, there's so little. We relaxed, as I would on any vacation, but everything about this vacation was different: Because it was a new country, because I carried a backpack, because I was with Billy, because he is incredible. And, yet, in the midst of all of our glorious vacation time, I still managed to be the overly-analytical, stereo-typical chick that you all know I am, secretly wondering from time to time if he regretted taking me. It was stupid and uncalled for, but I still found a way to wonder if he was sorry he brought me along. Some things never change, no matter what part of the globe you're standing on. And, sometimes, I annoy myself.
Then there's the moving. My room in the condo I have referred to as "my home" for the past seven (?) months, without having actually lived there for more than a month, cumulatively, is a disaster, and it needs to be organized, packed up and carted away. Just like writing about this trip, it, too, is overwhelming. I stare at all of it and can't even find a place to start. I had planned to use the week after my return to methodically sort, throw away and/or pack everything there, with the goal of being all moved in to Billy's house by the time he returned. But this proved to be more challenging than I gave it credit for. But, finally, four Salvation Army bags and about a BILLION trash bags later, I have managed to cart all of my carefully chosen shoes from that condo to their new home in Billy's house. My house, now, too, I guess. And now I feel like the ball is finally rolling. The room may still be littered with boxes and old clothes that have yet to be moved, but my shoes have left the building. It is the first step to my every move, so at least that progress has been made.
The moving, though, was interrupted by the tragic events to which I alluded in my last post. I don't want to go in to details, since it's not my place to talk about it, but I am going to a funeral today. Out of respect to the departed and the family, I'm not going to go into who it is or what happened, but it has claimed a better portion of my days and nights since last week. This, clearly, is the main reason I have not been posting, as it's hard to get all psyched in talking about my trip when there is grieving and supporting and helping and worrying and listening to be done.
That being said, I'm not sure, exactly, when I'll have time to write a proper post. But I will, because I need to. At the very least, I need to write for me. To clear my mind. And that day will come, I'm just not sure when. Please bear with me.