How Did This Happen?

I am sunburned. People told me to put on sunscreen, and I listened a little bit but not enough. While my neck, shoulders, and chest hurt quite a bit and I feel like whoever once told me that three quarters of my body is made up of liquid is lying to me, I am blissful because this sunburn means two things: 1. it is warm and springtime and 2. I had an incredible day with the same wonderful people I go on and on about.

On Saturday morning we boarded a bus headed to Gränna, a little town about an hour north. (Yes, I'm Minnesotan and measure distances in time.) When we got off the bus we boarded the first morning ferry to Visingsbö, an island where the bodies of 2,000 Russian soldiers were held during "the war." (Yeah sorry, I don't know which war...)The ferry was so great and reminded me so much of all the trips my parents and I took to Washington Island in Door County. We spent some time exploring the ruins of the fort and climbed around the secret passageways. After the ruins we continued down the road and explored a beautiful church and surrounding countryside. Other components of the day included ice cream outside in a gazebo and fresh fish sandwiches in the harbor.

Upon returning back to Gränna we quickly set out in search of the famed Gränna Polkagrisar, huge candy sticks in every flavor imaginable. We even got to watch them being made in several candy shops. Of course I only bought about 15 "samples" to bring home...

As referenced by my title, I have no idea how it came to be that I will be home in about 9 days. It seems like it was about 6 weeks ago that I was calling my mom to tell her that I was going to Sweden for a semester and there was nothing she could do to stop me. (Right, like she would ever want to do that, I'm just sassy in my memory of that afternoon.) I look back to my pictures of the far north which seems so long ago. I don't know what it is, but in those pictures where the coldness hinders the pictures with an icy fog, I feel a pang of homesickness for the beginning of the adventure.

Just like January 13th was an abstract departure date that seemed so far off in the distance, May 18th was an even stranger concept that I couldn't comprehend for the longest time. And here it is, a week from Wednesday. This is arguably the greatest thing I have yet done with my life. So, how do I let it end?

I am currently thinking about how in the world I am supposed to write my final paper for the semester. 5 months in 15 pages. When I think about the journey I have been on for the last few months, I catch myself thinking, "what just happened?" "What do I do with this?"

These last few days I have felt strange in the context of wanting or not wanting to go home. On the one hand, I am so desperate not to, but on the other, it's somewhat overwhelming having the knowledge that we have so little time left together and we need to make the absolute most of it. It almost feels like we're waiting to go home.

There has been lots of talk among us of what the first things we're going to do when we get home, what we're going to eat, etc. For a long time I was sure that I was going to have my parents take me out for American pizza, but the more I think about it now, I'm sure that the first words out of my mouth upon climbing in the old Elantra might be, "Let's go to IKEA."