Is it possible that all those years of planning and anticipation are down to just seven days? One week from today we’ll be on a jet plane heading to Paris for a year in Europe. What will it be like to transition from expectation to fruition? We’ve been in the seemingly endless state of looking forward to this departure for so long now that it may actually feel surreal to be on our way. Anticipation is such a delicious mix of future pleasure and anxious pain and I have always been its slave. When something I’m looking forward to is on the horizon – a trip, a reunion with my children, a dinner out or well-researched hike – my imaginings take over to prolong the pleasure of the experience itself. I once read that to enjoy your life, you need to believe that time is a promising medium in which to do pleasurable things. Well, according to that pronouncement, I am thoroughly enjoying my every day as I suffer the pains and pleasures of anticipation. Depending on the day, I may smile uncontrollably like a madwoman, go through the motions in a trance or frown and appear to be unwell. “The anticipation is killing me,” and “I’m so excited I could burst,” are how I'm feeling today.