What Next?

I've had my wetsuit on twice this week and surfed none. I feel like a fish out of water. But that feeling might be a hold over from still floating from Oktoberfest beer. I do feel a bit out of my element. T minus 30 days until I leave Homer... I'm not sure where to or for how long.
On my last night in Munich, I sat with Rob and Marty and talked about Haiti. When I talk about it now, it is less detail and more philosophy because I've drawn some conclusions since then. I won't bother with them here. They are reserved for eye-contact conversations... preferably in evening beer gardens while Maroni shells fall on your head.
The one thing I will repeat in writing is that I am going back. Maybe not to Haiti, but to where ever I can find that God needs me to do something. And I'll do it. Hopefully soon.
Oktoberfest was all I could ask: a weekend with great friends where the beer could never hurt your head as much as the laughter hurt your stomach. We came by train, plane, autobahn and foot. And joined forces, linked arms, and had an international friend and family reunion.  Prior, I felt a little guilty wondering if it was worth crossing the world for. It was.
On this side of that (a place I always find myself), I must choose what to do next. The only for sure at the moment is I'll pack a small bag and my book. I'll play broomball and visit family and then do something else... Suggestions are encouraged.