So I'll be leaving for the airport in like 4 hours, which is like barely enough time to go to walmart to get one of those pillows that fit around your neck (I have amended my previous opinion that they are only for sissies in light of the 15 hours I will be spending on a plane), and to ilearn how to use itunes to put some isongs on this ipod (Thanks iNatasha!).
The party was a great success, and I'm really glad that we had it, even though my legs are bruised up and down from the slip'n'slide. Finals, while they left no physical bruises, were less pleasing.
I don't really have anything clever to say; I've been spending the last few hours trying not to barf from anxiety. While it might, to the untrained eye, appear as though I am just overwelmed with anticipation, the truth is that I terrified of leaving something I need at home. Which is silly, because I can't think of a situation like that which is not easily fixed with either "Live without it" or "Buy a new one". My stomach, however, will not listen to the logic.
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