Every time this, and many other, images that are to befall me in exactly one week popped into my head, my stomach did a flip. It was 15 parts excitement, 5 parts nerves and only 1.667 parts sheer panic. How dumb was I to believe I could work almost up until my departure date? There is still so much to be done!
Needless to say, the shock of finding myself seven days away from a foreign country finally got me moving. I'm currently packing (for real this time) one of my suitcases. Trying on clothes that will have to be warm enough for winter's chills on a hot August night is not my idea of a good time. It does remind me a little of playing dress-up though, and my inner child is smiling.
I finished Till We Have Faces last night and started on Lilith this morning at work. Apparently the only thing that really does get my procrastinating self moving is a real, solid deadline. Personal goals and vague dates don't do anything. There is nothing so motivating as finding a due date mere days away.
