Il y etait une fois I planned for the Millennium celebration for five years. Because, after all, one simply doesn’t decide spur-of-the-moment where to spend New Year’s Eve 1999/2000. Not if one plans to be abroad . . . it simply cannot be done. Space booked years in advance (opps, showing my age again). Hogmanay? Paris? London? Nope, we chose Jubilee in Rome, the Eternal City. Now I mention this because I’m the quintessential planner. Right, I know, I know . . . nothing during PC service can be planned with certainty. But when your philosophy is that life is a journey and every moment brings something to be enjoyed along the way, you embrace the anticipation of every step. After all, it’s all part of the journey. Yes, even in my worst OCD-state I’ve tried to embrace the uncertainty of the PC nomination process. Butterflies in my tummy are my new best friends. Well, maybe not. But I’ve learned to appreciate simple everyday things as I’ve never done before. The wet, button-nose of a terrier. A bed with layers and layers of down. Hot water with the turn of a lever. A flush toilet (too much information?!). My point is: with an invitation in the mail, more fun stares me the in the face: the packing list! This will keep me occupied until the magical “kit” arrives, at which time I may spread it on the floor and roll-around on it. Or repeatedly run my fingers through the mounds of paperwork. And as I prepare the packing list (as if it hasn’t been started already, right – who am I kidding?), I can evaluate the placement of the official Peace Corps patch. Hat? Safari vest? My new saree? We can only speculate.