It rained today.  No, stop.  Don’t click “back.”  I do have a point.  This is the first “rainy day” that we’ve had in Ireland.  The locals are a bit weirded out that winter hasn’t hit yet, and that we’ve had so much sunshine in the last few weeks.  I know a few surfers who are upset, because good weather means not-so-good waves.

I generally dislike rain.  I dislike being wet, except when showering or swimming.  I especially dislike stepping in puddles and getting soaked to the skin.  However, now that I’m sitting in a pub next to a heater, I’m okay with the rain outside–the pitter-patter of drops on the roof, just audible over conversation and the clink of dishes in the kitchen.  It makes me think of home, and of the thunderstorms I love so much (funny, that I love thunderstorms but detest rain).

Sometimes I miss Nebraska.  Most of the time, I ignore the fact that I’ll eventually have to leave Ireland.  Honestly, I don’t want to go back.  Sure, I miss my friends and family, but I don’t miss the stress of classes and the endless deadlines.  I don’t miss America’s fast-paced frenzy, or the fact that I can rarely find time to just sit or even nap.

But sometimes, sometimes I think that I’m ready to go back; ready to get on with my life.  I’m ready to graduate, to walk across that stage (and not trip over my gown), and accept that diploma.

But for right now, I’ll sip my tea and listen to the rain pour from the skies.


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