It's less than a day until I leave these fair British isles in search of exciting horizons abroad, and I suddenly find myself counting down the hours. To everything. 12 hours from now I can use my online check-in with Delta Airlines to get some baggage allowance for my LA-Anchorage flights. It's 16 hours until Foster will be arriving to drive me to Heathrow. 21 hours until my flight leaves. 32 hours until I first set foot on American soil (well, concrete) in Los Angeles. 41 hours until I land in Anchorage, Alaska. 42 hours until I get to the hostel where I'll be staying for the first 3 days.
Perhaps it's time to start packing?
There are so many things still to be done that I keep remembering things which I had forgotten. Like writing down the phone number you call if the bank decides to freeze your card due to unusual activity. Or charging the digital camera. Or printing off my flight details. Returning some books to the library.
The closer it gets to the time I leave, the more frantically I procrastinate. "Let's check the weather in anchorage right now!" - it's mostly cloudy with some rain. Temperatures of 7C. Maybe I should pack a woolly hat? Maybe I should make some additions to my little black book's temperature converter, which only shows 0F, 0C and 100C. "Mid-40s to 50s" sounded quite hot until I did the maths. Why did they include details about envelope and paper sizes (both US and European) on the "Useful Information" page of this book, but not a better temperature scale? I've taken one of these tiny pages to put down information relating to Venezuela. Phrases like "I would like to change some dollars" sit between translations for "I would like to speak with the british embassy" and "please take me to a doctor". I'm sure it'll be fine.
Tick tock goes the clock. Perhaps it's time to pack now? Nah, i'll make myself some lunch first....
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