This evening, after a flurry of emails throughout the day between the travel agent and myself, and many tweakings and confirmings of dates, I am in possession of a quote for an entire overseas holiday. Flights, accommodation, transfers, and insurance.
And about ten minutes ago I had a moment of sheer, blindness-inducing terror, because I couldn't possibly actually go through with it.
But you know what? It's simply not true. (Dear Brain Chemistry: I'm onto you. Stop it!)
I would have the same jitters no matter where I was planning to visit, no matter how standard the destination, because I have a head that likes to throw all sorts of catastrophes and definitely-going-to-go-wrongs at me regardless of reality or probability.1
And at the end of the day, I don't want to waste what little time off I get on holidays that don't take off the top of my skull and reboot my soul. I want to see geography that makes my heart swell with awe, and to witness cultures and ways of life that break my expectations. I want to see mountains, and steppes, and deserts.
So yes. Tomorrow I'm putting a deposit on my flights, and booking my leave from work.
And I'm going to Mongolia.2