Return of the Countdown to Leaving

It’s like a horror movie. Or maybe action. This time, of course, it’s a mirror-image trip – albeit a distorted mirror, since I’m going to end up in Providence instead of Boston. Other than that…

I’m collected Last San Francisco Things. Today was the last time at Cafe La Boheme, and possibly the last Bart ride. I have so much I want to do, though, that I doubt I’m going to SF more than twice from today. I have to go thursday for an interview-type thing, but that might be the only one. I was planning to go tomorrow, but I’m feeling like I don’t want to. I could just walk around Mountain View instead. Also, I’ll spend much less on the train if I only go the one time, or maybe once more on top of that. We’ll see. Big sigh for monthly passes expiring at the end of a month.

I have three projects that I would like to complete before leaving. Two of them seem possible. 1, finish the edits on the story I’m currently working on. 2, finish reading Hunchback of Notre Dame. 3, finish knitting my scarf. The scarf seems the most unlikely. It’s not that I couldn’t finish a scarf in that amount of time, but there’s about half left to do and it is time consuming, not to mention that I tend to only knit ten rows at a time and then set it aside. Usually I would do more, but you might stop too if you had to stare at a pattern the entire time you were knitting.

On the other hand, the other goals are quite manageable. I have a lot less editing than I thought for this story, although possibly more than I’m remembering just now. I don’t want to disrupt it too much, but it needs a few additions. A few hours’ work, tops. No problem.

Call it the final stretch, or whatever you want: you know how when you’re waiting for something, time never passes the way you want. I think that if I make a conscious effort not to waste time, or to just wait, I’ll be satisfied with these next two weeks once they’re over. It’s the waiting that makes time seem so strange – for me, because it causes me to be unproductive, and then I look back and realize how much time I let escape me. And then comes the self-kicking (not literally).

All this said, does anyone want to help me pay for the shipping on the packages of stuff I have to mail to myself, since I can’t carry it all on the plane? (Of course I don’t expect anyone to, but if you wanted to I’d be happy for the help! And I have paypal.)


~ by plaidlylush on November 30, 2009.

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