It’s dawn, if 4 am qualifies as such, and the morning of Fall Break is nearly upon us. I am writing from a London bus which is on its way to Heathrow Airport, and the driver turns corners so fast my suitcase keeps slamming into me.Even though, I will (possibly, at some time today) be boarding a plane en route to Berlin, the moment is bittersweet.
We are halfway done.
While my Rollins friends can begin their Winter Break countdown, I begin to dread saying goodbye to this amazing city. For the past two months, I have managed to convince everyone, including myself, that I am capable of functioning as some sort of pseudo-adult.
I have deciphered the mysterious ways of London’s public transport, and discovered the virtues of the Sainbury’s meal deal. I was evacuated from Kings’ Cross and still found my way to work. Also, I get to intern with a charity that is extremely passionate about the same things that I am. I was also recently told that periods are referred to as fullstops in the UK, and could I please adjust my language accordingly?
The point is, this whole experience is just about the big adventures – jetting over to the continent for the weekends. A lot of it is simply figuring out everyday life, and how you can manage as an independent, functioning adult.