Turn and face the strange...

I'm not good with change. Usually, when faced with new situations, I have a tendency to deny, deny deny, and then bury my head deep in the sand. There are things going on right now that don't leave room for my usual modus operandi and I'm trying to learn an abject lesson in facing front and marching forward with blinders on. I can honestly say that up until this point, I've been doing a pretty good job of failing abysmally. An small example of this is my reading pile. Usually, I can pack away two or three novels in a week, review one or two of them, and then get through all of magazines stacked by my chair. For the past month or so, the books have sat un-read, the reviews have gone unwritten, and luckily for me, my township has instituted magazine recycling, so I don't feel too guilty when I wrap them up with twine, untouched, and toss them to the curb.  Instead of productive activity, I find myself mindlessly flipping through Facebook pages, twitter feeds, blogs and boards. After what I think is a half hour or so of clicking and tapping away on my keyboard, I look up to realize that it's actually been two to three hours of total time-suck. Bad. Very, very bad.

The change I'm talking about? Well, to give you an idea, my to-do list these days consists entirely of helping my daughter get out of the house, packed and supplied for her semester abroad in Australia. And while that in and of itself should be really exciting (and it is, to her) it's causing me to want to move in the opposite direction. Perhaps if I procrastinate, if I hang out on my computer, if I  go to sleep a little later at night or wake up a little earlier in the morning, then next Thursday may not come as fast, and I'll have her around for just a little while longer. In the meantime, I'm just plain distracted. Don't get me wrong, things for the trip are getting done. Skype and iChat are set up, an old, unlocked phone has an Australian SIM card in it,  the visa has been procured, the rolling duffles are ready to be filled, space bags already hold a comforter, towels and linens...I'm getting there.  And so will she. And when the house is empty again, and she's 10,000 miles away (as opposed to 250) I can de-brief and see what I should do differently next time. Because there always will be a next time.  That's the reward and the drawback of being a parent; constantly watching the door close behind them as they leave you for their own adventures. The hard part is smiling as they do it.