Getting ready to leave, I have one more hour left. Blubbering like a baby because I love my home, and Seattle and my mom and lately whenever I’m here I have a really hard time leaving. I am also scared. I don’t know what to expect and my hormones are fucking me up and all I want is comfort and constants. But I have to leave. So here we go.

But luckily I kept it together until I was walking home in the very cold and wet melting snow.

I am so frustrated with so many things. I am extremely organized. I am a very good planner. And I had plenty of time to get ready for this trip. But here I am with less than 12 hours left in Seattle and I am missing so much stuff, like a credit card and my 720 rand that was supposed to be delivered before 10:30 this morning (it’s now 3). And a laptop lock, and cleaner so that my eyes don’t get infected and a clip on fan so that I don’t die of heat in South Africa. And now who knows if I’ll even be able to get to the airport since me and my dad couldn’t even get out of my driveway this afternoon. So I walk up to the drug store, and starting three blocks away from my house, all the roads are plowed. Three fucking blocks. Three blocks closer to main roads and I would have been able to get my brows done today so that I don’t look like a wild beast, and I would have been able to go to U-Village to get my eye shadow primer, that I am desperately low on. I’m frustrated, but I’m starting to give up. I have no energy left. I didn’t sleep at all last night, legitimately. And I am just so exhausted. This better be fucking worth it. It better be fucking worth all this stress. 

urbannomad:

—-Day 10/365 on Flickr.

“The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who can’t read.”
- Mark Twain

absolutely true

(via Effervesce. | Flickr - Photo Sharing!)

(by SemiCharmedLife (☯))

hard to be a saint in the city (by rockie nolan)

(Source: fuckyeahprettygirls)

urbannomad:

—-Day 9/365 on Flickr.

Reflect on your present blessings, of which every man has many; not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some.

-Charles Dickens