There and back again, again.

I'm writing this from a hotel in New York City, waiting out an intense layover, and for the second time this year I travelled during the daylight savings time shift. Hello, ten-hour time difference between my two homes!

The last DST shift was in March (I can never remember which one is turning DST "on" and which one is turning it "off") during my NYU Abu Dhabi Candidate Weekend. Back then my biggest issues were trying to pronounce my roommate's name (Ahmed, not Aaaahhhhsscchcchscja-med) and figuring out if the guy doing the hotel wake up call was speaking English or Arabic. I still don't know, to this day. Anyway, now I have to worry about arranging my own flights and ground transportation, eww. Guess that means I'm...I'm...I'm an...adult...!!!? It had to happen eventually. Egh.

And I hate this traveling. When I arrived last Thursday night at the Abu Dhabi bus station, I was frantic, standing for 30 minutes in a miles-long line moving the speed of a glacier before I realized that it was the line for Sharjah, not Dubai. I was already thinking of ways to tell my mom that I wouldn't make it home, or, at best, to explain why I had to spend $100 on the two-hour taxi ride to the Dubai airport, but instead I grabbed a seat just in time on the last very comfortable and very cheap bus bound for my destination.

All nervousness aside, this week has been super. I saw pretty much everybody I've ever met in existence. All the humans. All of them! (sort of X-Men 2 reference, yeees?)

It's also been magnificent not having to worry about homework, even though I have a buttload to do when I get back. And as I've been telling people all week, I realize now how separate my two worlds are: life doesn't stop in Abu Dhabi when I'm gone, nor did it stop back in Minnesota. Definitely did not. I feel like when I get back to my dorm room, my life will, somehow, have been reset and I'll have to introduce myself to everyone all over again. Please remember me, UAE.