It has been suggested my infrequent posts are because I am sitting here waiting until I get 50+ comments on an entry before I write a new one. Good on ya, smart arse. But I haven't felt like updating because what's been on my mind isn't the stuff I like to write about here… I like posts in neat little packages with a distinct structure. And a punchline. I don’t like to talk about personal stuff unless I’ve edited for an hour, until I’ve stripped out so much that it sounds like just another dinky mildly amusing story. But things aren’t happening in neat little packages lately. It’s all a blur of activity. We’re now officially homeless. I felt sulky and betrayed as I watched our furniture walk out the door with its new owners. How one forms an emotional attachment to a microwave beats me. Finally on Friday afternoon, Rhi and I dropped off the keys then headed off for the Sydney leg of our Farewell Tour. (Farewell Tour! I feel like KISS or John Farnham: I know I’ll be back on the road again in a couple of years, a little older and uglier… but it sure felt like the last hurrah.) So I got to meet the Jeb, spend quality time with the Luke, and rock my socks off at the Dirty Three. It was a top weekend, but wasn’t long enough, nor did I get to meet everyone I wanted to meet. All this saying goodbye crap has left me rather emotional and pathetic. This morning my boss looked at the calendar and said, “You’re leaving in two weeks!” and my response was to croak, “I don’t wanna go!” and burst into tears. This is the second incident of workplace bawling and I’ve only been here six months. At least last time my grandfather had just died so I had a decent excuse. But today the poor boss just stood there, looking very alarmed as I hiccupped and honked away. So yes. That’s what I’ve been doing. Crying my eyes out. Being a wimp. (And trying on a different perfume each day at David Jones so I’m all ready to go beserk at duty free. Sure we’ll be poor little backpacking types, but I want to stink good! Current frontrunner: Dolce & Gabbana Feminine.) Zzzz. Another reason I didn’t want to post about this wimpy stuff is because I know what everyone will say. That this is no big deal. That millions of people nick off to another country every day. That my much-loved friends and family will be here when I get back. That I will make new friends. That I should stop being afraid. That I should shut up and be thankful because I’m so lucky to be doing this. That “Shauna Being A Pussy” seems to be a common theme here lately. Blah blah blah. You know I’ll delete this. Let’s hope something happens soon that can be written about in a neat little package.