Anxiety-Induced Insomnia

Why is it that I only post at 1Am? Maybe that's the only time when I am bored enough to do so. Nonetheless, with only 3 days left in America, I am beginning to freak out, and not just because I just started packing. Aside from the obvious fear of being overwhelmed by everything in London, I am really just wondering how everything will turn out once I get there, the unexpected...

Thankfully my Mom contacted her cousin, whose husband's brother lives in London, and who will be able to pick me up from the airport. Though I was initially hesitant at having to depend on the far-reaching powers of family (I am independent, that's what going to London is meant to symbolize!), I am grateful that this will be one less worry for me. I could imagine it now: me landing at 7AM in London, trying to transport four bags through Heathrow, while wondering how and who I should contact. I'd struggle trying to dial a number because I'd sit there wondering how to dial a + sign. Then I'd have to use the limited money (£) I had to get a train ticket into London. Once I dragged all my bags onto a train, I'd arrive in the city and have to pull the four bags through the train station until I found the Underground and got another train that would drop me off somewhere near Carr-Saunders Hall. Then, I'd have to drag the bags the numerous blocks until I actually got there. At this point, I'd be sweaty and gross and exhausted, but hey, I made it. Instead, I'll have help loading the bags into a car and have door-to-door service to my hall. Why was I so childish to initially refuse the help of others? Idiot...
Still, I'm scared shitless. It's gotten to the point where I'm listening to my Holiday (to be politically correct) playlist that is usually reserved for December. Christmas music is so cheerful and calming, yet it has an air of expectancy, and that's what I need right now. Too bad Christmas is still 94 days away (thanks Wolfram Alpha). Chestnuts roasting on an open fire...

While I was trying to fall asleep, I realized one flaw in this plan. If my plane lands at 6:55AM (GMT?), then the latest I would arrive at Carr-Saunders would be 9AM (and that's if it takes forever to get my bags and get into the city), which is still an hour before I am able to check-in and get into my room. Lame...what will I do while I wait to get my room? It'll be like when you get on a cruise ship and they still have to load your luggage into your room, so in the meantime, you explore the ship. So, I'll explore London, maybe get a phone or find a grocery store or a pub. But it's the walking around the city, even at 9AM on a Saturday, that frightens me. I already feel like an impostor, an interloper (my new favorite word, after maladroit), and worst, a tourist. And even without these retarded, unprovoked feelings, I'm sure I'll get lost, but all the better to kill time I guess.

Oh yeah, another thing, this whole thing in London is still one of my four years in college. Education is supposed to happen. So that means I need school supplies, right? Like notebooks and calculators? I'm still wondering if it's a joke that students in England don't buy textbooks. I wonder if I'll be the only kid in class who doesn't have a book, and that's if I can figure out which classes I'm in. I registered online for my classes, but it doesn't seem like LSE is too intent on letting us know what's going on. So far, I don't know if I'm for sure living in Carr-Saunders, what room, whether I bought linens, what classes I'm in, if the classes I want are available, when classes take place...but I do know how I can get to Wales or Scotland on the cheap! Maybe that's something else I can go pick up Saturday morning. Though in reality I think I may pass out on the sidewalk outside my residence hall and wait for all the 17 and 18 year old English kids who'll inevitably live in my building to rob me. Like stealing candy from a stupid, jet-lagged American.

Thank God for Frank Sinatra, that man's voice can calm a tiger. Are tigers in need of calming? Probably in the way I'm in need of sleep. But then again, what does it matter? I'm moving 8 time zones away in 3 days. To acclimate with that schedule, I'd have to be nocturnal. So, fuck it, I say, I'll just screw up my internal clock, reset if you will, so that when I get to London, I'll just be exhausted beyond belief. I think the best way to beat jet lag would be to combine every remedy I've ever heard of. So, first things first, I'll fast for about a day beforehand, drinking only water to stay hydrated. Then I'll stretch repeatedly to keep the muscles from tightening. And keep away from the booze while sitting in the sunlight. This sounds like a game I used to play when I was a kid, only back then, I would stare at the sun while pretending to be a Power Ranger. Power Rangers don't get jet lag!

In the end, I guess it's the fear of the unknown, the new, that plagues me. But isn't this something I should welcome? We shall see... (PS, Ratatat is some solid music at this hour.) But besides all the obvious fears, I'm also afraid I'm going to blow up my iPod by plugging it into the wall the wrong way...or something else preposterous like getting arrested in a Tesco for not signing my credit cards. Someone smart once said, "Expect the best, prepare for the worst." I do the opposite by expecting the best and that's it. God, I'm so fucking lazy.

Anyways, expect pictures of red buses and telephone booths (which I may be dependent on for the first few days) in about a week. I don't know what to expect, but those two are safe bets.