In three days, by this time, I'll be at the airport with my bags and my boy, ready to fly back to the UK. I'm happy to go back, but the feeling is bittersweet. I don't know after this trip when I'll be back, and if I'll be back. It's hard to say. KSL is running very successfully without me (which is great but makes me feel I don't have a place with it anymore), it's been difficult to maintain friendships when I've been away for 6 months, my room I was so pleased with is no longer my own. My roots there have been ripped up, and maybe it's a sign that it's time to move on.

Three days ago, my cat Squee ran out the back door and into the neighborhood. We haven't seen her since. I love this little cat and have had her in my life for about 6 years- not knowing where she is and whether she's ok is really upsetting to me, especially when I'm about to leave for the UK.

I really thought I was getting a grip on my life, my job, my home. But instead I'm back to drifting- not particularly attached to people here in California, as I'm always leaving, and not particularly attached to people in London, as I've been gone for six months. I don't feel like I belong in either place, anymore, and it's making me nervous. And kind of depressed. No, ok, not kind of. Very. While before I couldn't wait to pack, I've been dragging my heels. I'm scared to go back, but feel like I don't belong here anymore either.

3 days and counting, and I feel like I just want to curl up in the fetal position until it all goes away.