Things Are Getting Odd Around Here

I'm starting to feel like someone with a terminal illness. Today I finished work for the semester, and since fall seems a really long way off, it feels somewhat like I'm never coming back.

Ditto on everything else. Your brain starts doing this to you when it knows it's going someplace: Not going in there again this semester...gee, last time I'll see him/her this year...last weekend...(SNIFF)

It's enough to drive a sane person mad. I'm not leaving forever, although everyone is acting like it, and I'm coming back. Mostly in one piece, even.

If a sob fest starts around here I am walking out on it, and don't even get me started on people refusing to understand that next semester I won't be here.

See what I mean? It's like I'm going and no one knows it, so I have to keep telling them I'm going and then they're all surprised. I don't look like I'm going; I don't look like I'm not going to be here, because I'm here now.

Aren't these people going to be surprised when I'm NOT here next semester? Then I'll get back in the fall and they'll all be like, "Where in hell have you been? I didn't see you ALL last semester?"

It's not like most of them care anyway; I'm usually invisible and strangely only become visible when I'm not there. They'll note my absence more than my presence-now isn't that just a cup of fritters?

I should wear a shirt saying I'm leaving town in three days. ANNOUNCEMENT: WILL BE ABSENT FROM YOUR EXISTENCES VERY SOON. ENJOY ME WHILE YOU GOT ME.

KISS ME NOW BOYS; THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE?

WARNING: NOT COMING BACK NEXT SEMESTER?

Because if I have to explain to ONE MORE person that I'm going to be 5,000 miles away in 2 1/2 weeks I am going to scream.

Meanwhile, on the getting things done front, my one paper is half-finished and the other is going to take about 5 minutes. Give me an hour on the story and I'm done for the semester. Joy.

Still debating over whether I should do a reprint of Isolde Diaries, now that the kinks are worked out and all. I have to make this decision before Wednesday because if I'm going to be buying something to keep the pages in I want to get it while I'm buzzing around town.

Should get back to the paper now and get some actual work done on the thing before this "I feel like I have a terminal illness" thing really starts getting to me.

Cheers,
Bec