The Anvil-To-The-Head Moment

Scene: It's 11:45 pm at night. I am up in the living room, talking to a few friends on Instant Messenger, listening to one of the new albums off iTunes I am somehow unable to stop buying (I blame that little button, it's much too easy to click it. You should have a whole sequence of "Are you sure?" windows, like a spam bomb). I am bitching about how I don't want to go back to work (two more days, both 5:30 am shifts. They sure do want to send me out with style, those coffee fascists. Long story). And then it hits me, as if it hasn't already, that I am leaving the country for a year in just 11 days. 11 stinking days. All I need to do is get some dollars exchanged for pounds, figure out for sure what to do about my printer and get some more toner, and also figure out how to get everything that will be required for a year in England into two large suitcases, one middling-sized backpack, and one heinously heavy laptop case. Well, to be honest, the heinously heavy part comes when I have to load all my electronics into it and then port it all the way around the damn airport, find places for it beneath airline seats, and then port it all the way out of the other damn airport. That gives you a wicked pissah shoulder cramp, let me tell you.

Anyway. This is what I prefer to call my anvil-to-the-head moment, in which it strikes the previously happily oblivious college student (myself) that this is, ya know, KINDA A BIG DEAL. I am in that uncomfortable space where the trip is imminent and I am thinking about it all the time (as if I wasn't already) but I still have a week and a half to go at home. So I am distracting myself by buying music, watching football (Broncos currently in process of raping league, helped out by Ed Hochuli, am hoping it will continue, am under no delusions that it will if D-line and special teams continue to perform splendid impersonations of cattle excrement) and complaining about work. In short, it's kind of hitting me now, and unfortunately has too much time to continue to sink in. I AM LEAVING THE COUNTRY, PEOPLE! FOR A YEAR! AND AM EXPECTED TO LIVE THERE! AND NOT RUN OUT OF MONEY!

Hoof. Hoof.

Okay, better now.