So, I’ve gotten a million things done today and yesterday. I’ve had these two days off, and I decided to try and make the most of them by actually accomplishing things that needed to be done, instead of spending the whole time procrastinating, which is my natural state of being.

Yesterday I knocked out a lot of shopping for Congo (bug spray for my clothes, those bags that squish your stuff so you can pack more in your suitcase, boxes of Clif Bars, and so on) and for non-Congo (that would be grocery shopping). I was Jonesing for some burgers, so I made some cheeseburgers and homemade fries, and they were delish. (And the whole meal–including peas, oh boy!–cost less than going out for burgers, even though I used hormone-free meat etc.)

Today, I cleaned the entire house except the office, dealt with some weeds and stray branches in the yard, and finished Heart of Darkness. I’m trying to decide if there is any good reason against taking a nap this afternoon. Not sure there is one. However, there are a few more items on the to-do list that would be good to knock out before I catch some zzzz’s. I’ve got to go over the taxes again and get those ready to go out, and there are a few other paperwork items I’d like to get done before the weekend.

Oh, yeah, the subject of this post. I’ve been having very odd dreams lately. This Sunday I will take my first anti-malaria pill, and one of the side effects is having very vivid dreams. So apparently I’m just getting a jumpstart on that. The other night I dreamed that I had a baby. He was several days old, but I still hadn’t named him, and I kept forgetting to feed him. In fact, I kept forgetting he existed. Jesse was the only one who remembered to feed him, but he was feeding him things like leftover bean burritos. I told him I didn’t think our baby was old enough for that kind of food, but I wasn’t quite sure, since it seemed to have gone well so far.

Then last night, dream-Jesse and my dream-self went to a Florida elementary school where we had supposedly met, at the monkey bars. It was night, and we drove right up onto the field behind the school. Then, we encountered a squirrel who was misbehaving in some way. Jesse fussed at the squirrel, which then turned into a wombat, and then the creature began to attack me. It was quite a surly little beast, and I don’t know if you’ve ever been attacked by a wombat, but let me tell you it’s terrifying.

Update: Here’s a picture of a wombat, for those of you who didn’t click the link. Oh, sure, he looks cute enough. Until he’s hurling himself toward your face.

There are times, when I think about leaving for Congo in two weeks, that I feel excited. The rush of traveling to a place so foreign from what I’m used to. The newness and unfamiliarity. The starting of something I’ve been thinking about for a long time now. And then there are other times when I feel there is a particularly large man sitting on me.

Needless to say, there is a lot to do and less and less time in which to do it.

But, I will talk about that later. First, the weekend re-cap. Saturday was Jesse’s birthday, and we celebrated with friends by putting together what Jesse calls “The Ultimate Burger Meal,” which is burgers from Five Guys, fries from PT’s, and milkshakes from Chik-Fil-A. We had a blast, and the combo was quite nice. Then a few of us went out to see Coraline in 3D, which was surprising. I’ve never been able to watch a 3D movie without a killer headache afterwards, but this one was great and caused little to no visual distress.

Sunday was the anniversary of our starting to date. Jesse and I have been together for nine years now. Hard to believe. He had just turned 18, and I was nearly 17. So, in a sense it seems amazing we’ve been together for nine years, and in another sense, I feel we’ve been together forever. We are happier now than we’ve ever been before, and every year seems to be better than the last. That sounds sappy and ridiculous, but it’s true.

Yesterday we went to church, had a Congo meeting, hung out with our neighbors around a grill and a fire pit, played games with the small group, and watched the Oscars at our Leland friends’ house. Quite a full day, and I’ve been rather sluggish this morning! But the takeaway from the Oscars was this quote, by William Penn, quoted by someone in a thank-you speech: “If therefore, there be any kindness I can show, or any good thing I can do to any fellow being, let me do it now, and not defer or neglect it, as I shall not pass this way again.”

It’s little things like hearing that quote that make me feel more excited to go to Congo.

Here is what happens when you raise your child in a one-story house in Florida with carpet and tile and no hardwood. Everyone knows a proper girlhood includes a two-story house (preferably with a secret passageway, or an attic ghost, or a mysterious old trunk with a secret bottom compartment, but let’s not be picky), and if you do not raise your daughter in one, she will not know the wrong and right ways to travel up and down stairs. And then, she’ll foolishly wear a pair of black socks on her feet as she flies down a flight of hardwood stairs and then those sock-covered feet of hers will suddenly start to go at their own pace, leaving her body in midair for a frighteningly short amount of time before she crashes down to the hard stairs and slides and bumps her way down until the offending feet decide they’ve had enough fun and come to a halt.

Needless to say, I’m quite sore now. My tailbone took the brunt of the fall, but my low back also knocked a stair or two on the way down. My legs are quite sore as well, and strangely enough my arms and sides, too, I guess from trying and failing to catch myself. Sadly, no bruises yet. I always think if you’re going to dramatically fall down a flight of very hard stairs, you ought to have a few nice purple splotches to show for it. I’ll keep checking, though. Maybe tomorrow or the next day…

Our plane takes off three weeks from today. Time seems to be accelerating.

I’ve started my oral typhoid vaccine. I alternate days–take a pill, skip the next day, take a pill, skip…and so on. And I snagged my malaria meds from the pharmacy. I’ll start those in two weeks, then will continue taking them once a week while I’m “on the ground,” and then I’ll wrap up with four weeks of pills once I get back. Oh, and apparently Blue Cross is doing some kind of free generics thing or something, because the Rx was totally free. Now, if only they’d do the same for all the shots I got last week…those will probably cost a few hundred dollars once all is said and done.

We had our first team meeting last week, Thursday morning at 7:30 a.m. In my opinion, because I am not particularly a morning person, no one should ever meet at 7:30 a.m. for anything, but I quickly forgot about how early it was because I had so much other stuff to think about. What to wear. What to say. What not to say. What not to do. Where to sleep. What to drink.

When Robin lived in Congo, she was told that people there expected her (as a woman) to wear pants because she was a Westerner, but it wasn’t something they were really over the moon about, so while I’m definitely going to be in jeans on the trip, I figured I’d see if I couldn’t find a few comfy skirts to bring with. Of course, how often do you see me in skirts? And long skirts? Yeah. So, I need to buy some. Fortunately, I was complaining about my lack of fashion sense to one of Jesse’s coworkers, and she offered to take me shopping. She’s one of the most fashionable people I know, so I am very excited. I also need to make an appointment to get my eyebrows done, I am considering a perm (a loose one–not the poodle kind), and I bought a trial kit of that Bare Minerals stuff. Not all for Congo, but I figured I might as well get these things done before I go. It’s rather ridiculous, but I don’t care. I’m excited.

I watched Ghosts of Rwanda the other night to get a better background on one part of the Congo conflict. I found it fascinating and horrifying. I highly recommend the film. I also went to the library and came back with a stack of books I really need to read before heading over there (the actual reading list if I’m going to do a project on this is about a mile long, so I’d better get started). But, between work and the house and food and life in general, it’s hard to find time to do everything that needs doing.

On that note, I’m going to sign off and get started on said work…three weeks, huh? Really?

Last Thursday I went to get my vaccinations at our doctor’s office. (Jesse’s doctor happens to be one of the travel doctors in the area, so I didn’t have to go to the health center–good thing, too, because apparently some people are having to wait weeks for their appointments.) When he came in and looked at my itinerary, the doctor’s eyebrows shot up and he whistled and shook his head. I had to laugh.

I got three shots in one arm and two in the other and left with a prescription for malaria medicine and for an oral typhoid vaccine (lasts for five years instead of two, and it costs the same as the shot). So, all in all I got: the yellow fever and hepatitis A vaccines, a polio booster, a tetanus shot, and a flu shot (because some studies have shown it helps a little with resisting the bird flu–oh boy! I forgot about the bird flu!). This rounds out the other vaccines I got for grad school (meningitis and hep B).

The tickets have been purchased. We fly out March 9th at 6:00 a.m. from Raleigh, with stops in Washington DC; Addis Ababa, Ethiopia; and Kigali, Rwanda. From Kigali we will hire a ride to the Congo. We’ll leave Africa on March 24th, and we’ll finally get back to North Carolina on March 25th.

Here’s the group: There’s me, Ms. Scaredy Pants. And Robin, who lived in the DR Congo from 2006-2007 (see: Congocast). And Evan, who is Jesse’s boss. And Luke, who works with Evan and Jesse. Evan and Luke will primarily be filming. Robin will be following up on things she worked on while she lived there. And I will be listening, watching, absorbing. (Hopefully no parasites or germs or diseases will be part of the whole absorbing thing.)

It struck me last week that we are all in our 20s. There is not one single person above the age of 30 in our little band of travelers. I’ve been living away from my parents’ home for years. I have a master’s degree. I’ve been married for five years. I pay a mortgage and do my own taxes. But still, it seems as if we ought to have a “real” adult going with us. You know, someone a little more experienced, someone with a few wrinkles here and there, a gray hair or two, a wisened voice of reason and caution. I asked Evan where all the adults were, and he said, “We are the adults.” (…Eeep!)

So, I’m going to the Congo sometime in March. The decision was both incrediby easy and very difficult. Difficult because I am kind of afraid of Africa. I’ve never really wanted to actually go there. Okay, I used to want to go on a safari of some sort, and I’d like to see Victoria falls, and the pyramids seem cool. But I’ve never been too keen on going anywhere that had a required vaccination list. And malaria medicine seems a little scary. And then there’s the whole unstable government/roaming rebel groups thing. That’s not a great selling point.

The easy part of the decision is not something I will probably be able to put into words. There are moments, flashes, starting nearly two years ago–there is me watching the Congocast preview episode for the first time. And then watching it nearly compulsively, over and over, for a week solid. There is a late-evening conversation at a coffeeshop with Simona, when I blurted out as I was leaving, “I can’t stop thinking about the Congo,” and her eyes lit up and she said, “I can’t either.” And before Christmas, I was at church and there was some song, I can’t remember what, and I just burst into tears because I knew I had to go to the Congo, and I was afraid to.

It’s something about love, what it means to love your neighbor. There are people there who have lived through things I cannot imagine. There are people there who are living things I cannot imagine. And something about this place has a hold on me, and I know if I don’t go I will be denying something important.

Maybe I will write about this. Maybe it will grow into something bigger. Maybe not. Maybe it’s just a one-time thing, a trip I need to take to get something out of my system. I don’t know.

But now it has a date. March. That’s really soon. I’ve got an appointment for my vaccinations tomorrow. And things will happen very quickly, and that’s probably for the best. I’m scared and thrilled. I can’t wait to go, and I can’t wait to get back.

I guess so! It’s not much, not like our last snow, but hey, it’s still snow. I’m hoping for a wee bit more later this morning…It’s endlessly enjoyable to watch it come down.