While walking home tonight, I was thinking about the post I planned to write about my first week of classes. Then I turned on my computer and checked my email. I found out that one of my best friends from high school was hit by a drunk driver last night. She and the guy she was with are both okay, just a little bruised, but they could have been killed. I can't even think about that.

My initial reaction when I read the message was to grab my US cell phone, intended for emergencies only. Infuriatingly, when I tried to place the call to my friend, an automated voice came on the line spouting some sort of French gibberish, then disconnected the call. I was too upset to figure out exactly what the problem was.

A few deep breaths later, I'm focusing on the fact that she's okay. That is all that matters right now. In the back of my mind, though, a dozen voices are asking, "why on earth would I decide to live on the other side of the ocean for six months?" "What if something horrible were to happen, and I couldn't be there?" "Why did I think it was okay to miss my little brother's 18th birthday and high school graduation?" "How am I supposed to contemplate living abroad long-term in the future if I can't even handle this?" "Why won't my (expletive) phone work when it is supposed to?"

This is clearly not focusing on the positive. She's okay. I'm remembering that. I will deal with the rest of it later. Right now, I think I need to get a glass of water and a piece of chocolate. Maybe I will try writing about my classes in a little bit.