The last days, before the departure

Friday 22/10/2021 – 2:00
There are 27 hours to go and I begin to feel that something is really going to happen. Not a voyage around the world, no, it seems exaggerated to me.
It seems as if someone rings the doorbell and when you ask who he is he answers that he works at NASA and is in charge of informing you that you are going on the Moon tomorrow. First of all it is not very credible, and then how can you imagine in advance what it will be like, how it will feel?
Or it is like seeing a rock overhanging the water, not even a couple of meters high, which from below looks really easy, but as soon as you get to the top it seems you have to jump from the edge of the Grand Canyon. But you’re not high, it’s just that you’re not used to it. Otherwise how do those who jump from forty meters do? They probably broke their eardrums when they trained to jump from twenty meters, so now they no longer hear the advice of those who think the jump is too high, the water too cold or the rock too slippery. Otherwise how could one jump into the void with such ease? Of course they could wait for the summer when it’s warmer and drier, but if there is no water then what would they do then?

The backpack is ready, it came a little fuller than expected, but no wonder, in less than 50 liters there is everything you need to spend a night under the sky with -5 °C. The weight is also high, around 13.5 kg, not including the minimum clothes worn, water and food. There is no danger, as soon as the cold arrives it will become lighter and it will empty.
Now it’s time to complete the blog, say goodbye and clear up the mess of objects that have been scattered during the preparations. There would be another dozen things to do, but they are almost negligible, almost.

Saturday 23/10/2021 – 0:53
Four hours before departure. All today’s greetings to friends and relatives helped me a little to understand what is about to happen, but it is as if there is a month left before departure, or perhaps a year. The idea of leaving is so unreal that it will probably take me a few days to understand what’s going on. You are never really finished preparing, you always think of something that could be done better, that you could deepen, prepare in advance. At some point you have to force yourself to stop, take a deep breath and jump into the void.
In the last month, not a day has passed without me being asked if I’m really sure I’m leaving, usually several times in a row. Always convinced, I answered everyone yes, absolutely, certainly, definitely. By now I have a repertoire of reassurances suitable for any kind of discouragement and a booklet of answers for every attempt at dissuasion.
Meanwhile, behind my poker face there is an incredible turmoil of thoughts that then vent as soon as we are alone, me and the thoughts. Leave? You? Are you serious? But no, imagine, it’s all a joke. Are you fool?
I don’t know, maybe yes, maybe I’m really crazy. As long as it was just a project it seemed absolutely normal to me, within the limits of my abnormality. Since the departure date has started to approach it seems to me pure madness, although I know for sure that it is the right thing to do because I remember well when I was sure of what I was doing. It’s like participating to a long run and forgetting why you signed up when you are almost in sight of the finish line. It’s a bit confusing, but if I signed up there must have been a reason, right?
Nothing particular happened in these days, these are the thoughts that came to visit me between a friend and another.
Now, with all this confidence and determination,
Let’s gooo!
(Uh? Really? But for what? Dunno, don’t look at me, I don’t know anything about it now.)