6 days

I am 99% packed. I have some forms to fill out, but all my boxes save one are taped, marked, numbered and ready to go when the shipping company gets here tomorrow. My suitcases are nearly full and there is almost nothing left in this flat that wasn't here to begin with.

It's real. I'm actually moving. It finally dawned on me today when I removed the last colourful bits of "me" from my bedroom and pushed the furniture back into its original place. Suddenly the room looked stark and empty, and no longer felt like home.

I was rereading old blog posts this evening- particularly those written when I first moved to London. I was so sad during that time. I remember the knotted stomach and unbearable loneliness, and my heart sinking the moment I saw the dorm room for the first time. And now I'm sleeping in a room that no longer feels like my own surrounded by boxes and suitcases, again. It's not the same thing, but there are echoes in the experience.

My flatmate is moving out tomorrow. I am glad to see her go because things didn't go as well as I'd hoped- I think we will part ways with the sort of stories about one another in which we call the other one "absolutely insane". Ah well. I'm looking forward to one or two nights alone in the flat before I leave on Saturday morning to go stay with my girlfriend for the weekend. Then on Monday I stay with a dear friend in Camden before waking early to get to Heathrow Tuesday morning. I have so much to do- so many odds and ends to take care of- turning off the utilities, organizing the donation of my bike and clothes, dealing with the property managers and our cleaners, sorting out my bank, my cellphone and internet, trying to fit in a few final goodbyes with friends and family....

I will get it all done of course, but I just feel sad about it all tonight. I will miss so many people and so many things about my time here.