I wasn’t going to write about this. I wasn’t. I had a whole other topic set up. I was going to write about my experience finally getting up Strawberry Peak–the hard way–and how it felt to so finely toe the line between freaking out and burning hard. The week before was a rough one. I had another handful of stress attacks. I woke up each day with a big weight against my chest. And so I was going to write about overcoming stress on a mountain but not really being able to overcome stress in real life.
Again, that’s what I wanted to write about. Maybe I still will. Just not today. I can’t bare to write about that right now. No, I can’t because I finally downloaded the itinerary from the group with whom I’m going to do a safari. They sent the email three days ago but I didn’t open it until now.
The words Ngorongoro Crater popped up first. Ngorongoro. Crater. I don’t know what did it. It’s certainly not my extensive knowledge of the area–I’ve got none. It was something else. A sticker right in my belly. That sharp sort of giddiness you can easily mistake for queasiness. I went to google images and typed in the words just to see what would come up.
You can see what I saw here.
Up until this moment right now–this very second indeed–I haven’t been excited for the trip at all. The opposite in fact. I’ve been fucking worried sick. How will I plan things? What if it doesn’t work out? What if I get blisters? If you’ve read more than a couple of these posts, or have ever been close to me in my life, you know that I’m a worrier. I wish I weren’t. But it’s there, ingrained deep in my head.
But not right now. Not anymore. Now I’m not worried. Now I’m just eager. Now I just want to be out there. Now I don’t ever want to come back.
© 2013 Christopher Dart