This is the part I find the hardest to do. I’m meant to willingly pack my life up into one suitcase weighing 20kgs. Not my entire life, (obviously) but a significant part [that is coming to a close] none the less.
I began writing my thank-you cards to those who’ve looked after me while I’ve been here. It’s a really hard thing to do and not cry. Especially since I don’t want to leave.
4 more sleeps and I’ll be heading through airport security, boarding the plane, watching a really crap movie, patiently waiting for the seat belt sign to turn off, disembarking, buying duty free, waiting in the immigration line, & breezing through customs. Events that have become familiar to me this year.
Home coming is meant to be a happy occasion. But I always feel sad when I touch down in NZ, even more so when we hit the Palmy tarmac. Most probably because it means that my adventures have ended. Back to reality.
Reality sucks. Haha.
So does packing.
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