I’m off tomorrow! The last eight months has gone so quickly, and yet agonisingly slowly at the same time. I didn’t think I’d ever actually get here. Everything’s done. I’m packed, I’ve got my American dollars, I’ve checked my tickets for the 40 millionth time.

And yet, I can’t be excited because I’m too busy being miserably sick! What is with this timing? Utterly, utterly terrible. My head feels like it’s stuffed with balled up wet flannels, my nose is leaking all my remaining brain fluid, and my muscles ache like I’ve been beaten with a two by four. This is just so not fair.

I have everything crossed I’ll feel better tomorrow. (There’s a tiny, media-scare-mongered part of me that wonders if I have swine flu. Blerg).

My only saving grace is Katie, who provides a constant supply of lemon honey drinks, food, and cuddles. Whatever will I do without her?

I guess I’ll see very soon.