It is late and the weekend has already passed me by before I even had a chance to notice. I feel like I have wasted a lot of time lately, spun my wheels, avoided doing things and making plans and generally procrastinated life in general.

I'll be leaving for Paris in two weeks and for some reason, I am scared. In some ways, more scared than I was about leaving for college. Yes, college prepares you well for what it feels like to have to leave somewhere. But it does not necessarily prepare you well for going somewhere. I am used to saying goodbyes, used to being uprooted. But the college takes care of you upon arrival. Your social life, your academic life, your residential life...all of it is predetermined by some extent by other people or simply by the fact that you find yourself living in an extremely isolated and secure corner of Norway with 200 other people. Life doesn't happen like that in other places.

So it is not really leaving that I am scared of. It is what happens after I leave. I know I will miss people, but I do not fear it. I know I will miss my home and my country but again, I do not fear it. What I do not know, however, is what I will do and who I will be doing it with once I leave. There is no safety net to fall back on if I find myself lonely or bored in Paris. I can't call maintenance to replace a light bulb in my room, I can't go to the kantina to eat a meal if I'm hungry, I can't go to Snikkarbua to meet up with people. I am moving to a city full of strangers who quite frankly don't give a damn whether I starve to death miserably or not. And that is what I am afraid of, that unknown, that lack of someone to jump in and save me should I need it.

I have been looking forward to my soon-to-be independence in Paris for so long. When did it change from being something to be excited about to being something to be frightened about?