A Week from Tonight

One week from tonight I will not be sleeping. It will be the night before our departure; the night before I leave my home for one year; the night before I board a plane for six and a half hours and then another for thirteen with a toddler and an infant (and a husband).  In fact, I'm likely not to sleep much the next seven nights, either. 

It's like the night before the first day of school, but with grown-up size anticipation.

Our dining room is crammed with five large suitcases, all taller than S. Two have 360 wheels that allow him to spin them around the apartment. Another two are now flat on the ground, almost full (not before S. tried to climb inside). There's not much left to do, just keep packing.

That's not true. There is a ton of things left to do. For every item I cross off the list, we think of another three things to add. I take solace in the thought that once we're out the door, everything unfinished gets left behind.

Escape. Run away. Start new. Everything I love about living abroad, leaving one life, living another. Except this time I'm bringing a lot more baggage.

And I think I'm coming down with a cold.