Here it is, folks. The countdown timer on my laptop is currently at 10 hours, 51 minutes until departure at 9:00am tomorrow.
In my last post I talked about goodbyes. I've said most of them at this point and the odd thing is that I've been generally pretty unemotional about them. Not that they don't suck, it's just... I think I'm a bit numb right now. Even though I'm leaving tomorrow, even though I wasn't at Fest today, even though my entire life now consists of three bags and two cat kennels, it doesn't feel real somehow. It feels like I'll be seeing everyone next week or next month. It feels like I'll be sitting on this couch again next month. That I'll be going back to work on Monday. That nothing's changed. To be honest, I don't know when it'll truly hit me; maybe not until I wake up in my London bed for the first time with my cats piled on top of me.
Meanwhile, it's been a hell of a week.
This was the final week of preparation, most of it involving hoop-jumping for the cats' travel and packing/purging/moving of stuff. Not to mention some final socializing. What has amazed me the most about it all is probably the fact that I actually got everything done on time. Today I did little more than stay out of the way as roomie's new roomie moved in. It was kind of nice considering how exhausted I am from everything this week, both physically and emotionally.
Mom's decided to accompany me on the drive to Denver, which rocks for both of us. Meanwhile I'm just here on the couch with nervous kitties all around me, ready to pass out for the night.
I may post from Denver tomorrow night if a)anything interesting happens on the way and b)I'm not totally bushed from the drive. If not, next post will likely involve a lot of incoherent squeeing from London. Wish me luck!