It's finally getting closer and I'm getting a real sense of being on my way. My room looks more than ever like a tornado hit it, but I'm fairly confident that come Sunday most of that dreadful mess will squish into my rucksack to someday adorn the floor of my Japanese bedroom. I went to visit my grandparents yesterday who made me promise not to come home for the funeral if they died while I was away. Old people are so cheerful. Apart from making clear their funeral wishes, they were in good spirits. I got some great stories from Granda about the dangers of being a merchant seaman shipping goods to China in the 'fifties (no problem if you don't mind the police boarding your ship and pointing machine guns at you), the best way to outwit Liberian customs officials when you're in your underwear, and why it's a bad idea to hire zombies.
At the moment I'm loading all my CDs onto my new shiny iPod (so pretty) and wondering how I'd forgotten The It Girl by Sleeper was such a good album. I'm trying not to worry about the fact my passport hasn't turned up yet. If it isn't here tomorrow I'm in trouble.
I've got a mad day tomorrow - I'll be pacing the floor waiting for the post in the morning, then I'm going to Aberdeen to return Andy's DVDs and try to sell my old uni books (I swear they've been breeding) and see if anyone will take my shoddy old laptop off my hands. Then I'm going to go out with Lucy in the evening, which is always great fun.
On Saturday I'm going to spend the day running around like a headless hungover chicken trying to pack, then on Sunday I'm spending all day on the train (because I know how to have fun) and I'm staying with Kate (who I used to live with in Bangkok) on Sunday night. She has promised food and wine. I reckon Monday is going to suck: 5 a.m. start with a hangover, flight at 10. It'll all be worth it in the end - after Monday comes Tuesday.
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