Inspiration, Round 2

I'm already counting down the days (24 at the moment) until my triumphant return to Europe. Often, as my boots clack against the Harvard Square cobblestones on my way to class, lines from this song -- a half-remembered anthem of my parents' youth -- start running through my head. A fitting epigraph to a period of expectancy:

Well she was an American girl, raised on promises.
She couldn't help thinking that there was a little more to life somewhere else. 

In just a few weeks, I'll again be in pursuit of whatever it is I think I'm missing.