In like, not very many hours.
This does not actually seem real, possibly because I haven't packed and am busy watching Harry Potter, which is good because then I am not freaking out.
How is it possible that I leave Michigan, fly to Phoenix (which ... where is Arizona, anyway?), fly to San Francisco, fly to Auckland, then am home, which equals not anywhere that I can play RockBand or eat Ben&Jerry's or casually discuss Keynotes and Cheeseburger Parties. I think that is not actually possible.
What is even more impossible is that, essentially, 'tomorrow' is my birthday, so I get home, have a party, then have to go straight back to uni.
Like, what the fuck?
Update: Ok, I actually am leaving now. Well, very soon. Now I'm in SFO, at my gate, about to board my plane for New Zealand. (I almost wrote 'ready to board' but I don't think I am. It seems like ages since I was home, but no, three weeks was not long enough.) The flights to and from Phoenix were uneventful, except that when we got to SFO, we broke two luggage carousels when someone's bag got stuck and kinda ruined. Anybody want to guess whose?