So, her solution to my constant depression and annoyance with my 60 year old existance was for me to go to New Orleans. Not just to wander aimlessly but to go to the ALA conference.
At first, I just laughed it off. Knowing that there is no way on Earth, I would do this.
Being ENFP and adorable as all shit, she told me to make a list of all the reasons why I didn't want to go and what I was afraid of.
Well, the list looked like this:
1. Getting Lost
2. Getting Lost
3. Being homesick.
Really, Whitney? Really.
So, we talked about it at length and she told me to buy my plane ticket and she would meet me in the airport.
I just had to buy the ticket and everything would be golden from there.
I could do that. I can do that. I did do that.
Now my plane ticket is purchased (I'm leaving at 6 in the morning and stopping in Denver before finally making it there at 1). I'm registered for the conference (I even get a super cool badge with my name printed on it all fancy like).
Now, I just need to make it to June.