I count the first day of school as 7/7/08, a Monday, a travel day for getting me from home to Montpelier, VT. I write this two days later because I spent all Monday getting from home to VT…and a little bit more.
Thankfully, my family took me to the airport shuttle first thing in the morning. It was so good to ‘launch’ from their arms, filled with their love and good wishes - not to mention the chocolate and other treats sent along by my friends. I dozed on the way down to Seattle, missing the usual sights - the casino, the slough, the Everett Mall, the Shipcanal Bridge. All beautiful in their own way, but honestly, after been so stressed for so long getting ready, I needed the rest.
Rest has definitely been the watch word on this trip. Rest when I can, where I can.
We arrived at Seattle International right on time and I had little trouble with getting my bag checked, and only a little more trouble getting through TSA. I’ve gotten used to having my CPAP checked everytime. 
At the gate, I met RebeccaV, a graduating classmate who I met last Spring. It was great to know someone on the flight, even if we didn’t get to sit together. We were an hour delayed in leaving and that cascaded throughout. We ended up circling over Newark due to a backup of in-coming planes and then our connecting flight to VT was delayed an additional two hours. It’s no wonder then that our luggage didn’t make it!
I got a bit of work done, though, finishing notes on a poetry chapbook review (that I have yet to complete, and finally seeing Harry Potter IV. Otherwise, I dozed or chatted with Rebecca when we were in Newark. I finally arrived at my guesthouse at 3am, exhausted, but happy to finally be in Vermont. I was surprised about the heat and humidity though. It reminded me of landing in Manila at midnight. I had just enough energy to call DH and put my CPAP together.
After weeks of preparations and many nights and days thinking that this was all a crazy idea, too torturous to contemplate, I had arrived. I still wonder about the decision to come…which should be an awful thing to admit, but I’m also learning to be honest with my emotions when they come up. It’s a little about feeling unworthy of taking all of this time for writing and a lot about wondering if I have enough ideas and hutspah to actually get something useful accomplished…
Useful. Huh.
That’s what’s been hanging me up, I think, that there’s still a part of my that thinks writing isn’t “useful” ie. “practical” and that coming here is the ultimate indication of my own selfishness.
They’ve told us in our orientation - which I’ll write about soon - that we’ll all be asked to stretch and move past our boundaries. And in this case, I’m more than willing to get past this continuous feeling of “unusefulness” that plagues me. I just hope the process doesn’t include the huge crying jag that they also warn us will inevitably happen.
