A new start. A Wednesday.

I just deleted a lot of my posts, because I've decided I'd like to keep my daily activities and my deepest personal feelings in separate corners. If I want anyone to read this while I'm in Italy, I have to keep my private emotions out of it, as not to offend whoever.

I'm sitting in the sun at Vienna, and outside there is an Asian man sleeping in the front seat of his car, mouth wide open and most likely snoring. Chuckle.

I'm listening to Chet Baker and enjoying the soft, benign sounds of jazz humming in my ears. I don't particularly love jazz but it keeps me removed from the anxiety pulsing through my veins, and I don't really have to think about anything. Vienna is always reminiscent for me of high school, soft love and inspiration. I feel so comforted here, most of the time. Aha, I'd say this was another garden of mine. Add that to the list in the margins.

As I type, the burn on my wrist rubs against the plastic of the computer.

How many days? 39 days. My heart picks up beat as if I've just chugged two pots of coffee when I think about leaving. The closer it gets, the less excitement I feel and the more anxiety I confront. I've got to change my mindset. I'm going to Italy! Buck up, stop being a sap and get happy.

Things yet to do: find a sublet, pack and move my things, change my returning date, plan my trip with Stacy, make money.