Drinking flat champagne

The nervousness has already begun to set in. I am about four days away from facing the inevitable. On Tuesday January 5, 2010 I will return to the big city that I love so very much to face my realities. It doesn't quite feel the way that I thought it would. I am usually running, skipping even, and smiling with giddy anticipation of leaving boring, mundane, typical Virginia, and heading back to Mecca aka NYC. But this time is, dare I say, bittersweet. I am actually a little sad. Virginia has been very good to me. I can't really harken back to any time in my life when I've felt the way that I feel right now; but I imagine it's the way a high school graduate feels when he or she leaves home and goes away to college. The unknown. How am I ever going to navigate this maze? There is, of course, that trail of broken promises, unconfirmed hopes, and disbelief. Before pouring a glass of last night's leftover champagne, I thought of how wonderful it tasted. It was so crip, and light, and bubbly. I was so looking forward to experiencing the exact same thing again tonight. It is flat, but I'm drinking it anyway.