I don’t care to lay blame on anyone for sharing their day-to-day happenings and thoughts in a blog. But I feel down-right self indulgent.
When it comes to talking about myself, I feel rather uncomfortable. Buuut, I know I will most definitely get used to it. And quickly. Isn’t that the point?
This is a time in my life for ‘lasts’. I am feeling somewhat sentimental. Tonight is the last time I will sleep in my bed and be at my house. Today was my last day at work, not to mention the last of MYOB. For a while at least (I’m not so sad about that last one).
I have shared so much of my heart with Brisbane. And it hasn’t really sunk in that I am leaving. I am wondering when it will hit me, as if it is a sneaky little brother waiting around the corner of my hallway, ready to smack me in the knee, or spit water at me. I know he will be there somewhere, I just don’t know how or when.
But when he does pop on out, I know there’s not a thing I’ll be able to do about it.
Emotion has this amazing ability to hide himself from me sometimes, and then come billowing out to say hello to all who pass at other times. Like a lovely pink blanket.
SO, in two days, off we will go. To set about on our most monumental adventure yet. “The one you’ve gotta do before you get bogged down with kids.”
I’ve never understood that statement.