countdown : 8

with eight days to go - and no more job to have to go to - i'm in full preperation mode. eliot took off to pleasanton so there are no distractions.  i woke up and spent the (incredibly cold) morning boxing up all my stuff to haul off to storage.  as i box up my life, the perrenial lament: why oh why do i have os many books? i had a coffee and cleaned up the kitchen a bit. my backpack had some cat wee on it so i through it in the wash, saying a not-so-silent prayer that it wouldn't tear to shreds like the last pack i tried to do that with ...

then i spent some time at the bank figuring out how money withdrawals will work over there and depositing some back checks. heading over to the at&t store to discuss the workflow for the iPhone (it's complicated but it looks like we'll still be taking it), skipped over to the outfitters and picked up a better watch band and some small luggage straps for the handlebar bag i picked up at best buy - i'm converting a camera bag that cost $21 instead of paying bontrager $100. makes sense to you, too, huh?

VERSUS

picked up my 30-days-at-time contact lenses (which i am dreading using [they aren't comfortable] but what can i do?).  finally had something to eat about 2 and instantly fell asleep for 2 hours. i think my body was telling me to slow down. refreshed (sort of?) i head off to the 'bux for some coffee and internet. gotta blog, close up my e-mail account at work, and do a little more research. then it's a phone conversation with the storage facility, the landlord, the housemate and a quick repack of the bike.

then, god willing, lauren will come over with some wine and i can relax but i hope she brings something italian (montepulciano d'abruzzo? ripasso?) because i already have a cabernet decanted and it would really be a shame if- OH MY GOD WHY AM I SO WOUND UP?!?

Thanks, Push-Up Preston

oh yeah, i'm leaving the country for three months to survive on my wits and health alone for 3 months, that's why. thankfully i'm the good kind of wound up - excited, more-like. fear and elation have given way to determination. gotta move, gotta make steps forward.  beaming down to the planet surface and praying my shirt ain't red - unless i'm scotty. i don't think i'm scotty.  i'm more of a chekov, let's be honest.