Ummm. 36 days of work to go. Not that anyone’s counting [inside their head in a kind of desperate chant].

Don’t get me wrong. I’m looking forward to change, but in So Many ways, I don’t want to leave NZ. Outside my comfort zone? Oh, only on the other side of the world… I am going to epicly miss so many people.

This will be the airport. Please, let me have some dignity and not cry on the shoulder of the unfortunate person who sits next to me.

Not to mention the tinge of terror I feel when I wake up in the middle of the night thinking about how I am going to master a new public transport system. It took me three years to get on a bus in Wellington.

And then, of course, there’s the matter of choosing which shoes I’m going to take. Don’t even get me started. I know for a FACT that whatever I give mum to store, she will wear while I’m gone. Please, not the red stilettoes mum. Even I have trouble pulling them off.

Ok, deep breaths. If I live like Calvin for the next six weeks, I might just stay sane.