We took the polaroid to the gardens on Sunday only to discover we had run out
of film. So this is take 2.
Plus, Luke had some study to do for his very first French quiz tomorrow, and I
thought I could catch up on some journaling. What better place to do this than in
the sun?
My thoughts for the afternoon went something like this: I keep waiting for the
scary part to start... Everyone warned me that moving overseas was really hard,
and that homesickness was terrible, that we'd be lonely, poor, destitute and
devastated for at least the first 3 months. I had people warn me not to skype
home for the first few weeks, because otherwise I would miss it so much I would
book a flight home. Don't get me wrong, I do miss home, and I miss everyone
who lives at home (a lot). However, I keep waiting for this to get hard. Instead, it
just keeps getting better.
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