3:32 am

Yep, its 3:32 am and I've no idea why I'm up and wide awake exhausted. I've no caffeine in my body or reason to have my eyes open; I just can't sleep, or concentrate on reading, and have written too much in the old journal so now I'm tapping out nonsense to you all. A long post (or two or three) will be out soon on all the excitement prior to my recent trip abroad, the trip itself, and all the stuff that freaked me out about being in a westernized country. But right now I'm sitting here trying to devise ways to make me fall asleep. I suppose Benadryl may work, but I don't wanna do that. I was a dummy earlier and left my melon seeds and innards out and my dumb cat ate them and barfed all over my sleeping room, so now my eyes are watery from the incense I lit in an effort to cover up and clear the cat melon-barf stench. My minds amuck.

You know those days when you realize you thought everything was one way and really it's all quite not? Sometimes I picture life back home as something different and more pleasant than it really is. Like my finding balance and happiness here somehow meant that back home was balancing out too. It's not a crazy big deal, and probably more info than necessary on my blog, but it's late and I'm drunk with sleepiness. Family drama I've got nothing to do with but feel the weight of anyhow. I don't really know where I'm going with this; I suppose I need to vent (where's my Ashley??) but my cats growing bored of my tossing and turning.

Learning to let go, even from thousands of miles away, is amazingly difficult. I just realized recently the sanity I have found living here is unlike any other time in my life. It's not easy or wonderful here, and yet I feel it's the most stable home I've found for myself. I know that Morocco is not my home, that I am not Amazigh, and that soon I will return to the country of my birth, but I'm reminded now that I'm not going home home. The people I love are all still there, lhamdullah, but the collective is all over the place, there isn't some cozy living room where we'll all meet, cuddle, and mull over the time spent apart. It is with a good amount of shaky faith in the universe and a new sense of freedom that I look toward the future and the opportunity and responsibility I have to begin building my own life there. Who knew that joining Peace Corps-in order to help people-would in fact be the first time and place in my life in which I would not be helping/taking care of anyone; that really what I've done and learned is how to take care of myself.

4:10 am- the pre-call to prayer is going off now (a song before the morning call to prayer to wake people up before the actual call). The voice is muffled and not exactly musical, but it's comforting and beautiful. I normally sleep soundly through this and the call to prayer, but when I was in Europe I noticed and greatly missed its absence. Soon the sky will lighten as the sun rises to welcome another day. This particular morning my beautiful little sister Mia (or not so little-she's nearly as tall as me already!) turns 12, and this same day next month I'll be double that. 24 years old. It's hard to believe and I admit I feel old, or just worried that I won't get it all together and settled in soon enough. Sleep still hasn't come to pull me into bed; I fear I'll be a zombie today.