As we approach the day of departure, I have been practising my sobbing.
I seem to be experiencing all manner of emotion. Concentrated by that departure date, my laughter is bigger, my tears snottier, my mawkishness mawking like a fucking Saturday afternoon weepy on BBC2. Christ I'm going. At the risk of sounding incredibly pretentious, it feels like birth and like death. Where I'm going I can only go alone, and I leave behind everything I have ever known. Oh, how fucking twatty that sounds.
Tomorrow I am really having my leaving do at work. There will be hectares of snot. And then I'm seeing my good friend L for cocktails and food and probably further snot.
If Europe ever lacked a snot lake I could probably provide one in the next few weeks.
I know it's a beginning. But right now it feels like the end of everything. I'll be really pissed off if the world does end in 2012. All that moving and expense for nothing.