And Blerg Again.

We are getting closer and closer to zero-hour. It feels like we're just visiting here again, and try as I might I can't picture life outside of Saturday morning. For all I know, once we get to Saturday and we wake up and board the plane, it will all just go black and stop. Not an end so much as just a nothing. You know what I mean? This is all very dramatic. Sigh.

Tonight we're going to eat at some burger place on a boat. In Chelsea. I don't have the details, but The Holbs’s Fabulous Friends have Lives and Know about these Great Places and do Fun Stuff and so we're along for the ride. I plan to be my usual sparkling self and dazzle everyone with my daring tales of packing and the joys of good, strong tape. Tomorrow night we eat our last New York sushi.

This reminds me of a story: Over a month and a half ago I stopped taking The Pill. I stopped mid-cycle, which was silly and impulsive, but this is how I accomplish most things and so it was really nothing out of the ordinary. Two weeks ago I was supposed to have a period and didn't. Two weeks and a day ago I was convinced I had been miraculously impregnated but science has assured me since that there is nothing interesting happening there.

So I'm just waiting for a period? Just waiting. Where is it? What's holding it up? Is it just late? (Just like me, never on time.) Is it upset at me?

Until we move, until my period starts, until the next thing comes. I'm just here, hovering.