How is it possible?

How is it possible that we've been here almost a year? It's crazy how fast the time passes. We don't even know our next post yet, but P and I have already been talking about things we need to do before we leave - of the household variety (what to fix, what to sell, etc.) and the vacation variety (we still want to visit Mérida, cruise the islands, visit an hato). With our 1-year anniversary in Caracas upon us (Nov. 25), we're especially conscious of how little time we really have left.

It's also strange that I've slowly, without even noticing it, become one of the veterans at work. It was not so long ago that I felt that veteran status would never be mine, that I would never be one of the people with more answers than questions. But alas, I'm more of a veteran every day.

I've fallen into the goal-setting mode that usually hits around the new year. It's come a little early since our year is now marked by November rather than January. P is patiently putting up with me as I make lists (already started the spreadsheet of things we should sell and their prices - I know, I'm a little nuts) and remind him of all the things we need to do. A couple months ago we were waiting anxiously for our supplemental shipment; now I'm trying to plan how we're going to use everything up by this time next year! Funny how quickly the perspective can change.

Perhaps I'm feeling the very early crunch because I'm also dealing with one of the challenging realities of Foreign Service life: my friends leave like clockwork. One of my closest friends here is leaving on Tuesday. She's headed back to DC for training then off to Paris for a couple years. I don't think the FS lifestyle keeps us from making friends (on the contrary, especially at challenging posts), but I do think that it slowly hardens us to the pain of good-byes, in a way that may seem cold to people outside the Service. I just tell myself that I'll see her again (the Foreign Service is pretty small, and we're bound to, at the very least, be in Washington at the same time at some point in the future), but who knows when that will be. Could be a year, could be 5, could be 15. That's one of the coping mechanisms. Another may be planning my own departure. (Admittedly, thinking about the next place - even though I don't know where it will be - is exciting and alleviates some of the sadness.)