Right. (Or is that write?). I have two weeks left at work. 22 days til I leave the country. Hyperventilation is immenent.I can has brown paper bag?
I just checked my ticket for like the zillionth time to make sure I know when I have to check-in. OCD anyone?
If you haven’t yet recieved an invitation to my leaving party at Atomic/San Fran Bathhouse this Saturday, please consider yourself included. I know it’s going to be a good night because I’m wearing my cat dress.
In other, non-hyperventative, news, I’m looking forward to the #wcltweetup this afternoon – an opportunity to meet with my digital-savvy book-loving tweeple. Will report back. (Also will do some book hunting whilst there. Think I have finally exhausted Kathy Reichs. Extremely upset that last night with the finale of Bones. Considering downloading more and pissing flatmates off by using all teh internetz).
How much work can I not do in 12 days?