The days I haven't wanted to be a PCV are few and far between, but they are there.
They are the days when miscommunications and unexplained rules stop something great from happening.
The days when after weeks of careful planning, everything comes crashing down around you.The days when something happens at home and you can't be there to hug your friends or be hugged by them.
Being a PCV is hard. Sometimes, I think my friends and family know more about me now then they did when I was at home. I blog, I write emails, I complain on the phone. I talk about me 24/7. Now, I am no where near as humble as I should be, but even I have to admit, that's a lot of me.
I know so little of what is going on at home. It's hard to think about that. It's hard to to think about it because it hurts to know what I am missing. The first kisses of new couples. The helping to paint a spare bedroom wall. The 2nd coffees and political debates.
I missing being a shoulder to cry on and crying on the shoulder of friends. After all is said and done, being a PCV is 2 years of my life. Being Löki has been, and will be, forever.
There are days when I don't want to be a PCV. Today, yesterday, and last week have been some of them.