Furlough #2: where we're going

It had to happen eventually, but it took a bottle of mead and a late night and finally signing off of work to realize it.  I am going. I am really going. I have this sleep, the one that’s coming for me fast even as I type this entry, and one abbreviated one more, and that is it. A little over twenty-four hours and I am gone.

I am lying on the guest bed next to a surprisingly small pile of items that must go with me. Is this all I need of life for two weeks?  Really?

I’ve turned off all the lights except the lava lamp, whose glow is strangely soothing, and put away my books.  (Wizards of Earthsea is for the plane, so quit dipping into it already, Amy.) I need to wind down, and sleep, and yet suddenly it is all too real and all too soon and all too horribly far away.

What BART stop after the airport? I don’t know, but I know we need to trade off from BART to bus to do the walk-through on our vacation house, as we’re the first ones to arrive. I need a new bra. I need to make sure I remember … ack, so much.  So much. This trip has been in the works for so long and it has never felt real, not until five minutes ago. It was an eventual-thing, not a now-thing, but suddenly tomorrow is my last day to sleep in for two weeks.  Sunday is an early flight and Monday is … who in their right mind sleeps in in San Francisco?

Now it hits me.  A house shared with Jeff, Asai, Adam, Brian, Suzan.  Raven joins us for the birthday dinner.  Teresa stops by to say hi.  Lynette and Earl if they have time.  Jeff finally meets Cat.  Then red-eye flights home, and Adam and I hook up the iPods and drive, drive, drive.

Seattle isn’t "over there." It’s "where we’re going." Then Minnesota — a certain Zoë will be delighted to learn I’m packing purple nail polish this time! and camera geekery with John and …

…. ack, I’m seeing BT and Sander Kleinenberg and Josh Ritter in a two-week span.  Seriously?  Srsly?  SRSLY?  And I can have five of the people I love the most in this world all under one roof for an entire week?

Is it any surprise I haven’t fallen asleep yet? If I get any more excited I may burst.

This is real, right? I won’t wake up and it’s not happening?

Also…

Happy birthday, silly little blog site.  You are nine now.  Soon you’ll go off to middle school and I’ll have to explain the birds and the bees to you, and you’re going to be REALLY traumatized.  But for now, revel in your innocence.

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