… time to start thinking about packing and obsessing over whether or not my passport is in my handbag, carryon or somewhere completely different.
…time to start getting nervous about flying.
…time to start getting excited about seeing N again.
…time to start getting depressed and upset about going back to work.
…time to start suppressing my newly-reacquired Kentucky twang.
…time for one last night out with the old gang.
…time for one last family dinner–no cake involved please.
…time to start worrying about whether or not my sister is going to go into labor before I leave (or as I’m leaving!!)
…time to start thinking about how to say goodbye and not cry until I’m alone.
…time to start dreaming and scheming about how to get N to move back here with me, without the farm, of course.
…time to realize there’s not enough time.