Today I pulled on jeans for the second to last time in 18 months.
I am essentially all packed.
I get to spend time with some of my favorite people.
Writing your own farewell talk is stressful and surreal.
I'd much rather teach a lesson than preach to a congregation.
I feel so unworthy and inadequate.
It's been hard to sleep at night--always restless with bad dreams.
Ammon is my hero.
Everything will be okay . . . more than okay.
I'm so excited and scared and nervous and happy.
I will be a missionary in less than 57 hours.