"All my bags are packed I'm ready to go
I'm standin' here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye
But the dawn is breakin' it's early morn
The taxi's waitin' he's blowin' his horn
Already I'm so lonesome I could die...
Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh how I hate to go..."
Mmm I love that song by John Denver!! It’s true; my bags *are* packed and now I’m at that in-the-middle stage where you try not to count down the days or think to yourself “This is the last time that I’ll be able to do __ for a year” and all that sort of stuff that makes you either more impatient or more sad. I’ve somewhat successfully fooled myself into thinking I’m not leaving at all and it’s a normal vacation at home and so I’ve enjoyed these last days much more. Ha. The whole “I haven’t left yet but I’m already missing home” feeling still sinks in sometimes, which amuses me. Ah well….
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