I picked up our tickets, brochures, and t-shirts—everything I could carry from the center.

Exactly one week until the flight. Minus a day for the train.

Almost everything is done, except for the fact that... absolutely nothing is done! A pile of debts at the university (it’s going to be a hot autumn, oh yeah), I need to buy a bag and a bunch of other small things. But the worst part, of course, is that I’m still sick, and I really don’t want to leave like THIS.

Although, while I was on the minibus heading home with the tickets in my pocket, I felt so much better. This is it—a secret dream coming true, one that I’ve carefully kept deep inside for almost two decades, never letting it out, never showing it off, never shouting about it. And then, bam—it broke through to the surface. The blitzkrieg was a success. Forget about universities, crises, the flu—WHAT ELSE ARE YOU WORRIED ABOUT!? We’re going to the USA.