I'm officially leaving the country. Everything has fallen into place and we are leaving for real. The following things have prevented me from writing:
- leaving my job
- depression at leaving my job
- anxiety about leaving my job
- sadness at leaving my coworkers (most of them...MRSA aside)
- overwhelming amounts of stuff in my apartment
- taking said stuff and minimizing it to 7 tidy pieces of luggage
- hanging out with family so we can be sick of each other to ease the parting pain
- crying over my soon-to-be-sold car
- eating as a coping mechanism
This is not to say that I'm not totally thrilled. My friend Conor said Shanghai is "the coolest fucking place in the world" which makes me think I'm pretty fucking lucky to be living there in the near future. I'll feel more like a human being rather than a pack animal when I get myself on the plane and have a cocktail. Until then, I'm hit or miss.
Ahh, stress. It's a killer.