... and I started to get that sad feeling. That feeling that says 'You remember how when you went out to the airport you thought your holiday would last forever, well I've got news for you!'
I've pushed it away before today; laughed in its face and counted down exactly how many days I had left here. Many, many, many, many, many days stretched out in front of me. Now I have Monday and Tuesday... and sort-of Wednesday if you count the drive out to Cairns which I do (no I don't) and then it's all over.
'You're going to have to go back to your day job,' my mind teases me. 'You're going to have to fit into your uniform.'
It's a statement to my fit and relaxed mental health that the second phrase has me closer to tears than the first. Oh well, maybe I can get away with wearing my own clothes for a week or two while I downsize (or order new uniform.)
Still, tomorrow's Monday and I'll still be here. I'll deal with Wednesday later. And next Monday - I might be dead by then!
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