I leave for the airport fairly soon for my moderately spontaneous brief trip to Seattle. With all the Mayday preparation and brouhaha plus a danceout last night it is only this morning that I can focus on the anticipation thing that is a key part of my travels. I was pretty weary by yesterday afternoon, and had to leave work a little earlier than planned to shut my eyes for a bit. Yesterday I was still saying to all and sundry, "Why am I going to Seattle?" which is a question generated by exhaustion. Everybody, including my Seattle host, gave me the same answer: To have fun. Oh. Ok. I can do that.
I'm more alert today, although tremendously behind in some work projects (as predicted) and feeling as if I'm in the middle of a whole bunch of things and (just to show how neurotic I can get) already annoyed that the day I return home is the day of the Cinquo de Mayo festival in my neighborhood so I won't be able to park anywhere near my apartment (I usually plan to stay home all day that day). This is just a slightly more intense form of my standard pre-departure anxiety, which I sometimes manage to avoid talking about. By the time I get to the airport and get checked in and purchase food and drink for the plane and sit down with the day's newspapers I'm pretty turned around to the fun of the upcoming adventure.
I still think this is an impractical thing for me to be doing, but that's a good thing. From the airport I'll get whisked off to a brewpub where I'll be meeting up with some Seattle folks, tomorrow morning I'll be meeting the mythic susandennis in the flesh, then bconn and I head to the airport to pick up kasinik who himself is leaving for Seattle (from Adelaide) not too much after I leave for Seattle -- but he has a slightly longer journey and three planes to navigate. Then another day of fun and then home on Saturday.
I am feeling a little stunned by it all, I suppose.