Leaving
I decided Tuesday that it is time to leave the country for a while. If nothing else, I can get away from some shit and clear my head, not to mention see some friends I've not been around in more than two years.
Hooray for frequent flyer miles, although the trick now is to figure out how London and/or Amsterdam are going to work here. I've been spoiled the most recent times I've been over there, because my friends have picked me up from the airport in Aberdeen and that was that. This go round, though, I think I may spend a day or two in London to visit a friend. Her advice on how to get to her place from the airport seemed a bit spotty, so I will need to figure something out.
At any rate, I hate flying, and I went off an a phobic-nerdy-philosophical tangent yesterday. I'm considering writing emails to a few folks in the unlikely event that something horrible happens - that's the phobic part. Then I started thinking about how best to implement this: have them programmed to be sent a week after I'm supposed to return, send me a reminder email in case I forget to cancel them, and then various ways to encrypt them and do password validation so that the correct folks get the emails and the remaining files aren't left to be pored over in the future.
Then I thought, what is so shameful or secretive about the content in these emails that I can't go out and say what's on my mind to those people right now? I mean, why wait until there's no chance for anything but final words to say what's important to someone?
Obviously, I think too much. :) There's no person or specific content that got me thinking about this; it's just the principle of the matter.
When I was in the hospital after the wreck, life seemed so simple. Faced with being almost dead or physically and mentally maimed, the inertia and fear of change that gets in the way of living fully were stripped away, and decisions seemed so simple. I hope I can get that mindset back, although without the cost the first time around.
Hm.
