Friday: I can't express to you how I wish I could report on every facet of my trip as being truly fantastic, but alas, honesty really is the best policy and it is just not so that the rest of my friday was any kind of good...
I'm going to call it a bad case of terrible luck, and it started right after I said bye to Roshanna. Like I said before, we were enjoying the sunshine and feeling so excited about vacation, so this buzz was able to push me through the troubles of the next few hours. First of all, I was in a hurry. I had no more than 6 hours to go back to the house, finish my package, take the bus all the way back to the post office, pray that my box would be accepted, go all the way back to the house, turn over all of my laundry, take a shower, look up the carry-on regulations for our first airline, begin packing, talk to my family on Skype for as long as possible, eat dinner, print our airline tickets, and finish any of my blog that might be possible. Phew! I didn't feel too too stressed about it because 6 hours seemed to be a reasonable amount of time for all of this, but this lack of stress caused me to dawdle to my bus and I missed it. I spent (wasted) the next 45 minutes walking to other bus stops that I believed my line stopped at but I was wrong about each one. I could have walked home in that amount of time but for whatever reason (*clears throat* BAD LUCK) I stuck around to wait for the bus. Once at the house, I hurried up to my room and got to work on finishing my package. Naturally, I wasn't able to get very far because one of my friends called me at that exact moment and said something to the effect of, "we still need to book our hostels for the last two nights in Italy, and since I'm right here at my computer, you're out of class, and I have you on the line let's just get it done now." Really? REALLY?! I sat with her on the phone for at least 15 minutes and eventually she hung up with me to make reservations. Christine got back to the house around this time and was able to help me finish the box. She lent me a big shopping back to carry the sucker and I sped-walked to my bus after that. I made it to the post office 14 minutes before it closed, took the box up to the window, handed it over, and crossed my fingers like no tomorrow. Thankfully, the lady there took my box, stamped it, and taped it shut. It was done! I couldn't believe it! It was three days later than I wanted it to be, but it was done! I was able to breathe a little after this but was still a little on-edge if it would actually make it to my family without being damaged or rummaged through. Oh well, I had to get going... there were far too many things that still needed to get done and I had lost way too much time with this box!
I got back to the house and that feeling of "something bad is going to happen soon" or maybe it was "I'm not sure that I'm going to make it" started to kick in. I just ignored it and started flying around the house like a mad person. I flipped all of my laundry over and of course, it wasn't even close to being dry. I got all of my things ready for the shower and naturally, Lionel wanted to casually show me all of the remodeling progress in their bedroom at the same time. I eventually wiggled my way out of that and took an insanely fast shower. I got into my room, turned on Skype, and waited for my mom to log on. I figured out the carry-on restrictions for my suitcase and started packing. I have no idea how I managed to fit everything that I fit into my suitcase but it was miraculous. It was also a curse in disguise, though, because that bag was definitely too big to be a carry-on.
I was able to talk to my mom a little while I packed and I told her all of my stresses. I was too in-the-moment for her to be able to fully calm me down but it did help talking to her. I eventually had to say bye, though, because I was done packing and had no more than an hour before my train left... and I still hadn't been called down for dinner! I went down stairs and Lionel helped me print out our boarding passes. Then, Christine came out with- not dinner- our apéritif that was to be enjoyed with Muscatel by the fire. Reality struck me like one teeny-tiny lightening bolt after another as I sat on the couch trying to enjoy my biscuits topped with fish eggs and my wine: something really bad was really going to happen this evening. I gently reminded the family that my train was leaving in 45 minutes and they got the message. Christine designated chunks of minutes to the rest of the evening: 5 minutes for soup, 10 for the main course, 5 minutes to load the car, etc. If only we were able to stick to this schedule....
After our very rushed dinner of a seafood soup, bread with pâté, and spinach salad, I had my last yogurt and raspberry dessert for the week and I ran upstairs to brush my teeth. I took one last look around my room after that, grabbed my suitcase, and made a dash for the car. I shouted a quick goodbye to Lionel and then Christine drove Guilhem and I to the gare like a mad woman. While on the way, my friend Allie called me to see where I was. Fortunately she said the train was running 10 minutes late; perfect! I would be there in no time! But tragically, the schedule changed while she was on the phone with me and the train was slotted as being on time. Basically, we were blocks away from a train that was going to leave in exactly 2 minutes. I frantically asked my friends to do whatever they could to stall the train and then hung up and hoped for the best. I was barely able to shout goodbye to Christine and Guilhem when we got to the station; I just grabbed my suitcase and ran. When I got to the platform I saw a lovely sight: my train passing in front of me, no less than 15 inches from my face. I had missed it...
Everything slowed down after that. I realized I had been a tense ball of stress and negative energy for the past 5 hours because after I set my bag down and took a deep breath, I felt like I had just been rescued from an avalanche. Guilhem walked out after that and asked me if that train, the one that was now way down the tracks, was mine. Yes; yes it was. He and Christine had also come to the station to pick up Emma who was coming home for the weekend. Christine was furious that my train couldn't wait one extra minute for me. In her words, "they are often an hour and a half late. They couldn't wait one minute?!" We finally saw Emma and then Christine spent a good half hour trying to get me another train to Nice. The only problem was, that was the last direct train for the night. My only option was to buy a rather expensive ticket to Paris, wake up and take another train from Paris to Nice at 7:30a, and arrive in Nice around 1p. Whatever; it had to be done at this point.
*How ya doin' so far? Not too stressed for me yet? Good; it gets better!*
While in the process of waiting for my new train ticket, I had an absolutely catastrophic realization: I had left my passport at the house. Friends, I cannot describe to you the guilt and horror I felt at having to tell this God-awful thing to Christine, this woman who had been nothing short of indescribably generous and kind to me for the past two months. A woman who was spending her evening in a cold train station with a student she wasn't contracted to even care about. But it had to be done, and I did it. She didn't yell, sigh, or even roll her eyes. I think she just went from being in Intense Mom Mode to Maniac Mom Mode. She turned to Guilhem and Emma and told them to hurry up, I had forgotten my passport at the house and we had to hurry. We flew back to the house, I ran inside, found my passport, ran downstairs, thanked as best I could everyone in the house, flew to the car, and we raced back to the station. I apologized profusely to Christine on the way, of course, and then we were there. We lucked out with that because there were only 10 minutes until the train left. While on the platform, I saw two other girls from USAC- the same two who we ran into in San Sebastián. It was a merciful blessing to run into them right then because I was losing my sanity at this point. When it was time to board, Christine walked me to my compartment, helped me buy my ticket for a sleeper car, and then we said goodbye. It's a curious thing- after all of this stress and after all of these events that seemed so catastrophic, Christine got choked up saying goodbye to me. She gave me more of a hug than she ever has before (usually it's the familiar kiss on each cheek) and I stood in the doorway to wave as we pulled out. Once I had my bed, I realized that things might turn a little bit around: I had a room to myself for the night and I had felt a really special connection with Christine at the station. Plus, she had told me when I boarded, "it's all over now. Let it go and just enjoy yourself." Did I not owe it to her to take her advice?
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