I'm not ready.

The clock is ticking until I leave, and I wish that I could muster some enthusiasm for this trip. That's just the problem: the clock is ticking, and just want it to stop. Shouldn't every girl dream of an opportunity like this? To live in Paris for a month for credit? To be in the most beautiful city in the world, with no parents and no strings?

And yet I'm not. I don't want to leave, or at least not just yet. I kind of wish that I could stay here in the States and be a normal, American teenager: work in a restaurant over the summer, bum around, and hang out with friends. The kind of summer I have never had. The graduation of the Class of 2010 this past Saturday really freaked me out. That's going to be *me* in a year. So, this is my last summer of college. The summer before it all changes--for the better or the worse, I don't know.

Right now, I am so happy. Happy with life, friends, and just about everything. The only thing that makes me really upset is the thing that I should be happiest about: this trip to Paris.

Everything is fine, aside from the ticking of that infernal clock.

I feel awful not just on account of the reasons stated above, but because I am being such an ungrateful little prick right now. I'm. Going. To. Paris. PARIS. What the hell is wrong with that? But here I am, asking myself, "Do I want to do this? Is this worth it? Do I want to leave?"

Right now, the answer is no.

But, whether I like it or not, I will be getting on that jet plane Saturday and flying far, far away. I've made my decision, and now I need to run with it.